Last Year
by cc1989
Summary: Last year, Jane Rizzoli slept with six women. None of them were Maura Isles, but that doesn't mean Jane didn't want them to be.
1. Chapter 1

Last year, I fucked six girls.

Am I proud of that?

No. No, I'm really not. I treated them like conquests, like notches in my bedpost. I went to their apartments, screwed them and then I left. No sleeping over.

But the truth is . . . My story is more complicated than that. More complicated than just fucking six random women. More complicated than my sordid expeditions into a whole world that I hadn't even realized existed before this past year.

I guess it really started last year when we had that rape-homicide that led us to the gay bar called Merch.

I don't know why I couldn't admit to myself what I am before. And more importantly what I wanted from Maura, what I wanted to give Maura. But I kept it from her, hell, I kept it from myself for my whole life. But when I did figure things out finally, I figured out that the feelings I'd been having and ignoring for so long had built up to this point. It had FINALLY hit me. I am attracted to women more than I am men. But when I figured that out, I kept it from Maura for a while. I didn't know what to do with myself. She was my best friend, of course, but I found that I stronger feelings than that for her, and I didn't know how to handle it.

I don't know why I hadn't figured it out before. Everyone else had. Hell, just that morning, when Maura and I were at yoga and they called us out to the crime scene where Katie Gainer-Randall was murdered, Frost said something about me giving an 'I hate men speech'. I wasn't lying when I said I didn't hate men. I don't. Honestly. Sex really isn't (wasn't) even that bad with them.

Shit, though. Listen to me. Sex isn't that bad? How pathetic. And really, when it comes down to it. . . I've been missing out my whole life. I'm definitely gay. Definitely into women.

I've never come so hard in my life. That first time … was incredible. A real eye opener.

But anyway, back to the story. . . back to when it all really started.

….

The day started at yoga, where Jorje was staring at me and Maura was making googly-eyes at the yoga instructor. (what a tool.) While Maura was gracefully transitioning from one pose to the next and I was struggling not to fall flat on my face, she whispered to me that Jorje couldn't stop staring at me. Which was flattering, certainly. But then we got the call about a homicide. So we bailed the yoga studio and headed that way.

We found Katie beaten and bloody on the ground outside of a building. Her car was nearby and she had an insulin pump on her belt. We also found out that she was married to a woman and that she and her wife were regulars at the gay bar Merch. According to Maura, Merch is Welsh for girl. Good to know. After we processed the crime scene and had everything photographed and bagged and tagged, and after Maura had the body sent away to the morgue for her to process later, we headed back to the station. Once we were there and down in the morgue, she gave me that look. You know the one . . . it's that look that says: You're doing this whether you like or not. And she basically forced me into the double date with Jorje and the tool yoga instructor. What was I supposed to do? She was wearing those damned black scrubs that she looks so hot in. Not that I noticed. Ahem.

Anyway, so we end up going on the date.

Now don't get me wrong, Jorje was cute. And I was trying to have a good time. I told all of them about my first week on the job when I had to tackle that naked man. It was a funny story, I thought, but I didn't get much laughter out of Jorje. He was just staring at me the whole time with a puppy-dog look on his face. It was super awkward.

And then when the tool yoga instructor was kissing Maura right there in front of God and everybody, I didn't understand what that feeling was that roared its ugly head inside of me. But I sure understand now. It was Jealousy. Oh, that green-eyed monster. I realized later that I wanted to bury my own face in Maura's neck, smell her perfume up close and personal, taste her skin, while simultaneously punching tool yoga instructor in the throat. And then Maura asked, well told me I guess, to go with her to the restroom. She turned around when we were almost to the bathroom and our faces almost hit each other. We were standing so close together, my heart was pounding, but I attributed that to the wine and to the surprise of her turning around so quickly.

I told Maura he was sexy, and she told me to take him home. Really?! But I quickly forgot about Jorje when Maura started talking about the release of Immunoglobulin A or something after sex that wards off colds. I caught myself staring at her lips and didn't know why I was doing it. Her googlemouth was so much sexier than Jorje could ever be. I tried my damndest to get out of it, to avoid taking Jorje home, but the woman pulled a shaving kit for my legs out of her purse and I was forced. Well, sort of. I guess maybe I just had sexual frustrations that needed to be taken out on somebody.

At my apartment later, the idiot opened his mouth, not as nice as a googlemouth by any stretch of the imagination, he started talking about being a male nurse and kids and being a stay-at-home daddy, and I was like …. Whoa. No. No No No.

I mean, the guy should be perfect for me. I'm a strong woman, he's looking for a strong woman. But holy shit, he was just too weird! What the hell was Maura thinking? Nurse Jorje. Holy shit.

The next day, I saw Maura on the steps and she asked me how it went. I proceeded to tell her that he was freakin' weird and how dare she set me up with a male nurse who is way too sensitive for his own good. She laughed a little bit because she knew beforehand that he was a weirdo. She just wanted me to finally take someone to bed. Which is nice of her, yes, but I wanted to take HER to bed. Not Jorje.

So a little bit later, I'm interrogating the bouncer from the club, because he lied about his background and he looked suspicious for the murder. But then Maura interrupted the interrogation and produced lunch from Jorje. I wanted to slap her. Or push her against the wall and kiss her. Or something. Instead, I rolled my eyes and started to go back into the interrogation room. She brought me back though when she told me about the DNA on the murder weapon. A woman, it turns out, killed our victim. Huh.

Then we're back down in the morgue and we start talking about 'non-biological phallus shaped objects'. Shit. Dildos. And she opened up her googlemouth again and I caught myself staring at her mouth. Those lips. Okay, eyes back up. Make a joke.

I managed to splutter out something about ice-age women making sparks. And . . . Not funny. Maybe next time.

And the crime is personal now because we weren't expecting the killer/rapist to also be a female. And when females rape other females with 'non-biological phallus shaped objects', you know they have some serious problems with one another. Alrighty, things are heating up.

So now we're back upstairs and I'm trying to make it clear that I DO NOT WANT JORJE, cause he creeps me out and he keeps calling and sending flowers. I won't let the chocolate go to waste though. And then Maura said some crap about how Jorje will eventually stop calling when he gets to know the other side of me. I looked at her with a questioning expression and she fumbled around for a bit about some bullshit trying to cover up what she just said, but luckily for her Frost saved the day with news that our vic was on several dating websites.

I was mad at her for saying that about me cause I don't have a bad side, do I? But we've got more important things to worry about. Like finding out that our vic was cheating on her wife, whose alibi is solid by the way.

And Frost stared at the screen for a while, stood up and said, 'Hey Korsak, they uh… kinda resemble each other don't they?' He inclined his head at the screen, indicating the vic's photograph. 'Jane and the victim.' I looked to Korsak and he looked to the screen and I looked to the screen and we both looked at each other. He turned to me and said slowly, a sly grin at the corners of his mouth. 'You're right. It'd be a shame to waste an opportunity like that.'

I know what they're playing at, and I'm NOT about to go undercover in a lesbian bar. I am not a lesbian. (well, I didn't really know I was at that point, anyway)  
'No way,' I said, shaking my head. So blah blah blah, long story short. I end up getting swindled into it and it's been decided that I'm going to try and attract the same kinds of ladies that our vic did. See if we can't find our murderer.

Later at my apartment, Maura came over. Why did she come over, you ask? Well . . I don't know. We're best friends, and we always spend time together. And we like to have wine and talk about things and sit close to one another on the couch. And, hey, I don't have to explain myself to you!

So anyway, I said something about Jorje being more submissive than my dog, and Maura plopped herself right down on my bed with her perfect designer dress and her glass of wine and started to pet Joe Friday. I sat back on my pillows and crossed my boot-clad feet on the bed with my own wine and said, 'Maybe I should be a lesbian.'

I didn't think anything of it then, not really, I was just saying . . . you know. It would be better than dealing with creeps like Jorje, right? But then Maura said, 'Well, wishes can come true. . .' And I guess I didn't register my heart leaping into my throat at the thought of us being lesbians together. My heart went back to its original place, though, when she told me Korsak wanted to make me a butch on my profile. I was a little offended at first, but if I had really sat and thought about it, though, I would definitely be the butch to Maura's femme. Definitely.

I said incredulously, 'You put my photo and information on a gay dating website?'

'It's your best shot at getting DNA from the rape on this case,' Maura said as she grabbed her laptop and brought it over to 'her' side of the bed.

I shook my head. 'No, no. It's OUR best shot. You're going with me,' and I pointed my finger at her. She says no and I say yes, that I don't have time to train a female detective on how to collect and preserve DNA. I honestly didn't know why she was arguing with me. Who else would I take along with me to a lesbian bar? And after that she didn't have any more arguments. She must have really wanted to go.

So then Maura proceeded to show me my profile and all the women who think I'm hot. I'm actually a little flattered at this point. A little freaked out also, because any of these people could be Katie's killer. Also a little turned on for the chick who has front row seats to the Celtics. I am ALL over that.

As I snuggled a little further into my comforter and pillows, relaxing from the long day, Maura set her laptop aside and settled in next to me.

'I wonder what kind of women we would like if we liked women,' she wondered aloud in her 'innocently cute' voice as she fluffed the pillow behind her head.

I frowned as I glanced over at her and said, 'What? Well, first of all, I would be the guy.'

'What?' Maura asked, surprised. 'Now that's a cliché. Why would you be the guy?'

'Because,' I said, staring at her like it's the most obvious thing in the world and it needed no further explanation.

She nodded slightly, understanding. 'Because you're bossy?'

I glared at her. 'So are you.'

'No, I'm not,' she said, glaring back at me.

'Yes, you are. You're just soft and polite when you're bossing people around.'

Maura turned away, leaning back on the pillow. 'Well, it's a good thing you're not my type,' she said with a small smile.

'What do you mean I'm not your type,' I said, a little offended. 'That is so rude.'

She was laughing as she looked back at me, and I knew then that she was joking. She kept up the ruse, though, and held up one finger. 'Well,' she said. 'You don't know how to relax.'

I looked down at myself. At my perfectly relaxed and reclined body, but she pointed at me and went on. 'You wear your clothes and your shoes to bed and you just admitted you're bossy.'

I shifted and turned over, laying on my side now so that I could face her. 'I'm bossy. Hmm. You just put my picture up on a gay dating website and I'm bossy. Right.'

Looking over at her, she was beginning to close her eyes and get more comfortable. I wondered who would be the one to turn out the light. I decided to add another jab in there. 'After I said no, by the way.'

She ignored me though and closed her eyes. But I knew she wasn't asleep. 'What are you doing?' I asked her.

'Meditating,' she said quietly. 'It's too stressful to argue with you.'

I smiled and couldn't help myself. It was just too easy to flirt with her. 'Well, this time tomorrow, thanks to you, I could be on a date with a killer.'

. . . .

The next morning, the sun was shining brightly on my face as I opened my eyes. Joe was barking like a crazy dog and definitely wanted to be let out for her morning pee. I looked over at Maura. Wait, Maura? She was supposed to go home. She was awake as well, and I asked what she was doing here. Replying that she must've fallen asleep while she was meditating, she reached over and grabbed her laptop, ready to check up on the gay dating website.

I didn't have many emails from the lesbians, though. They were all from Jorje. Jorje. Jorje. Ugh.

'Maybe he's what you need. He's loving and supportive,' Maura said, smiling at me. I should've realized then that I see her that way. Loving and supportive and so much more than Jorje can ever be.

'Of course, the perfect guy turns out to be just an average woman,' I said. Once again, I had a woman right there all along who was much more than average. Much more than the perfect guy.

'But if I wanted someone to walk the dog with me and talk about my feelings, I'd be gay.'

Maura was up, going through my wardrobe, looking through my clothes when she turned around and looked at me.

'You're not going to say that to him are you?'

'I will if you don't. You got me into this, so you get me out of it.'

Then, as she's rummaging through my clothes, Maura makes some comment about understanding now why I always look like that. What?! I stare at her like she's crazy, but she's completely serious. She told me it's because I have NOTHING to wear. Now that's just not true. My closet is full of shirts and slacks. Plenty of stuff to wear. Perfect for a gay bar.

… . . . . .

So we're at Merch finally, a little before happy hour, and the bartender hit on me. It must've been the abs that caught her attention as I lifted up my shirt to attach my wire. I told her I'd give her a call if the need to switch teams and go on an adventure ever hit me. I was joking, of course. But I didn't realize that I'd soon be doing just that. . .

I hadn't seen Maura yet as I made my way through the room towards the bar. But then I did see her. And she looked . . . um . . . pretty freakin' incredible with that tiny little black polka dotted strapless dress that showed off her curves in all the right places. I tried to play it cool, but it was tough. She told me my table was ready and whisked away carrying a tray like she'd been waitressing her entire life.

The first girl I was on a 'date' with was a little crazy. She told me her coming out story and then asked how I did it. I hadn't really thought about my backstory, oops. But as I was stumbling over my words, trying to make something up on the fly, I felt a presence beside me. I could smell her too. Maura's perfume, expensive yet subtle. Makes me shiver thinking back on it.

'Can I get you ladies something to drink?' she asked sweetly.

And as I turned to my right, I got basically an eyeful of the most curvaceous, supple breasts I've ever had the pleasure of being up close and personal with. That was probably the closest I'd ever been to another woman's breasts, actually, so I was a little shocked. I just couldn't tear my eyes away.

Finally, though, I felt Maura looking at me, and I dragged my eyes up to meet hers. I looked back at my date and shook my head, trying to clear the fog that had invaded my brain. 'No, no. We're good.'

Maura took my date's glass and whisked it off behind the bar and bagged it out of sight to be tested. The next girl was a bit pushier than the previous one, saying something about always falling for girls like me.

'Like what?' I asked, actually curious as to how she saw me.

She smiled. 'Smart, tough,' and then she placed her hand on top of mine. 'Complicated,' she finished. And she was nice, sure, if a little forward. But NO ONE touches my hands. Except Maura. They're very sensitive, you see. The scars are just . . . nevermind. So she made me very uncomfortable by touching my hands.

But this girl actually looked excited. 'You're gonna break my heart,' she said grinning madly. On to the next one.

I finally got to Claire, the girl who was the last person probably to see Katie alive the night she was killed. Claire talked about how she and Katie really hit it off, that she really liked her. But then she saw the ring. And Claire doesn't date married women. Claire then says that maybe Katie would still be alive if she hadn't lied about being married. Ominous statement.

. . . . .

The next day at the station, Maura gave me the news that none of the DNA samples from the bar matched the blood from the two-by-four. Not good.

Frost shows up next with a file that has information about several million dollars going to the grieving widow, Mel, when Katie died. The widow now has motive, but she's got an airtight alibi. As I stirred my sugar into my coffee, Maura watched me for a bit and then mentioned that Katie was meticulous about testing her glucose levels. That it didn't make sense for her level to be so high when she had so many finger pricks as evidence that she was very careful. So Frost and I hypothesized that perhaps something was put into her system via the insulin pump that couldn't be traced. And if so, there would have to be finger prints on the pump.

Unfortunately, there were not prints on the pump. Wait, we thought, Katie's prints at least should be on there. But nope, it's completely wiped clean.

Accomplice.

I was struck by an idea. A damn good one too. You know, as usual.

So I made my way back to Merch in the middle of the day to talk to the bartender. She played right into my hands. What a sucker. I saw her lifting boxes when I first walked in with those special gloves that just so happened to match the deer-skin fibers we found at the crime scene. I went in for the kill pretty soon after that. You see, I knew she was into me. It wouldn't take much for her to give it up. I could feel it. How I had this innate sense of intuition about this woman, I have no idea. Must be a gay thing. I don't know. So I walked around the bar and reminded her that she said to let her know if I was ever feeling adventurous. She raised an eyebrow at me and smiled crookedly. Oh this was too easy.

'Yeah?' she asked, rather innocently. I nodded, smiling back at her. I moved my head a bit to the side as she leaned in to me and placed a soft kiss to my neck. Chills ran up and down my back and arms as I pictured a different honey blonde woman pressing her lips to my heated skin. I left her then. Wet and wanting, I'm sure, and headed back to the station. That was really my second step in the transition to full-blown lesbian. The first one was the boobs in my face, remember?

I got back down to the morgue and swept my hair out of the way, putting my neck on display for Maura. I asked her to swab it for DNA and she stared at me for a brief second. Out of jealousy, perhaps? And then she told me she's not even going to ask why. Probably for the best. I don't want to make things tough for her, you know, since there was no way she was serious about me not being her type.

So we brought the bartender in a little bit later and I let her know that there was a bus heading her way. It was her choice whether or not she wanted to be on it or under it. She chose the former option and agreed to set up her accomplice, AKA the grieving widow.

….

Back at Merch, I hid in the back room while Mel was talking with the bartender. This girl played her part beautifully, prodding responses left and right out of her cheating married lover. She tricked Mel into spilling her guts about the whole shebang. Pointedly, the pump was filled with fentanyl (a potent synthetic, powerful, analgesic – or so Maura told me later). She mixed that shit with water and made it untraceable. So then Mel tried to console her lover about getting the money in 90 days, there's nothing to worry about. But wait, what about fingerprints? A worried look crossed Mel's face and she said, 'You left prints?'

'No, there were no prints. It's suspicious.'

Another worried and now slightly confused looked crossed Mel's face.

'Wait, how do you know that?'

Busted. I walked out and arrested the bitch. Case closed.

But first I reach over to the bartender and take off her wire. 'This is as adventurous as I get.'

The thing about that is, though, that it's a flat out lie.

….

That night, I couldn't take it anymore. My curiosity was killing me and I had to find out more about these feelings I was having. Maura was at home, maybe with yoga instructor dude, I'm not sure. I tried not to think about that too much. But I was all by myself, itching for something. I had an itch that needed to be scratched, so I got dressed up in a nice pair of jeans and a loose white v-neck and looked in the mirror. I wasn't sure what lesbians were supposed to look like nowadays, but I figured I was close enough. I knew of a lesbian bar (not Merch) a few blocks away from my apartment, so I took off walking in that general direction.

The bouncer for this bar was another big muscular dude who looked like he had some military experience. I wouldn't have picked a fight with him, that's for sure. He let me in and I stepped inside the darkened bar, my second experience in a place like this. Well, my first REAL experience, the last one didn't count.

I made my way over to the bar and sat down on the one of the stools, my back facing the side wall so that I could see everything in front of me. The bar was pretty crowded, I noticed, as I looked around and took everything in.

There were women everywhere, all different kinds. And I didn't know what the hell I was doing there. _Shit,_ I thought to myself. _What am I doing here? _

I didn't know the first thing about dating women, much less trying to flirt with women in a gay bar! I was having a mild panic attack and thinking about getting the hell out of there before I could embarrass myself any further, when a voice came at me from behind the bar. It was low and a little sultry, kinda like my own voice, without the rasp.

'What can I get you to drink, gorgeous?' I turned my head and looked at her. She was blonde with shoulder length hair and a low cut blouse that showed off her impressive rack. Pretty hot. And almost as nice as Maura's. Almost.

'A beer, please,' I said, because I didn't know what else to order, and I was a little speechless at this woman. She was confident and flirtatious and she somehow seemed so . . . I don't know . . . gay, I guess.

'Any particular kind, or would you like me to surprise you?' she asked with a smile.

_Ah, _I thought. _It's like when I talk and banter with Maura. Easy. I can do this. _

'I like surprises,' I said, grinning crookedly at her, looking straight into her amazing blue eyes.

So anyway, after a few more beers and a few conversations with several other women, and after a couple of glasses of Jack and Coke, I was feeling pretty good. And it was either the alcohol giving me courage and confidence, or the blonde bartender was actually making eyes at me for the better part of an hour while I spoke with the other women. I don't know which, but either way, I ended up going home with her.

Yep. She was my first.

And just so you know, I don't normally do things like that. I'm a detective for crying out loud! It's always been important for me to know a little bit about the people I'm sleeping with. I can't exactly go around having sex with all kinds of criminals, now can I?

But that night was an exception to my rule.

And if it makes you feel any better, I didn't take her back to my place. No, no. That wouldn't have been right. Why? Well . . . because.

Maura has slept in my bed. And Maura will sleep in my bed in the future. I can't take another _woman_ to my apartment to sleep in the bed that Maura will be sleeping in. I know that sounds crazy, but I don't care. I was a little buzzed and a lot sexually frustrated and a lot curious about this blonde bartender woman.

And she didn't even care that it was my first time. I think she really enjoyed taking my lesbian virginity, or so it seemed. At least, she acted like she enjoyed herself. Not to brag or anything, but I did make her come three times. And she told me, too, that I was pretty good for a first-timer. So, there's that. And there's also the fact that I've never come so hard in my life. It was pretty incredible.

So that's what I've been missing all these years! But I knew I couldn't make too serious a habit of sleeping with women now. I wasn't ready for that. I was still figuring things out. Figuring myself out.

But, shit happens. You know how it is. . . And it happened five more times with different women throughout that year, but I realized soon enough, mainly through a series of wet dreams featuring yours truly and the one and only Dr. Isles in some pretty compromising positions, that these women were just stand-ins for the real thing. For Maura.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N – Wow! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed and favorited and followed this story. I was pretty overwhelmed by the initial response to this story. It means so much to me that you want to read what I write and that you actually enjoy it. I enjoyed writing it, so thanks again. _

_p.s. – I'll just go ahead and mention now that I don't own these characters or Rizzoli and Isles, so please don't sue me. I promise I'm not making any money off of this. _

_p.p.s. - this chapter is only M for the language I guess. I made the whole story M for a good reason though. Hope you enjoy._

_**Chapter 2 **_

I'll just go ahead and elaborate a bit on the sixth girl I fucked a couple months ago.

It was probably a mistake, yeah. They all probably were. But so what? I'm a grown woman and I'll make my own grown-up decisions. Even if they're made with a bit of clouded bad judgment. Number six was a woman I met at the local convenience store of all places. The previous week had been tough. An entire family was killed in their home, a mom and dad and two little girls. Everybody at the station was having a rough time, it was always the most difficult when kids are involved.

I probably had a total of about 10 hours of sleep the entire week. Wednesday and Thursday, Frost and I worked 48 hours straight. We were like zombies when Thursday evening rolled around. Cavanaugh came into the squad room, took one look at the both of us and ordered us to go home and get some sleep. He said not to come back before 2pm the next day. Of course I didn't want to leave, but neither one of us were being very productive at that point.

I would have liked for Maura to come over to my place or to go over to hers, talk about things, and have a beer or two, maybe even get crazy and have a bottle of wine. But she, like the rest of us, was taking this case personally and was still processing the autopsies and tox screens. Cavanaugh hadn't told her to go home, so she insisted that she stay and continue working.

When I got home, I took poor Jo Friday out for a walk. Fortunately, my neighbor down the hall was nice enough to take care of my dog whenever I worked long hours, but I could tell she missed me. She just about jumped into my arms when I walked in the door. Back in my apartment, I put out some dog food and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. I sat down on the couch and thought about turning on the TV. But as I sat there and stared off into to space for a while, I began to feel restless. I knew, of course, that it was because we hadn't figured out who killed that family yet, but I couldn't just sit there alone on my couch. I should have been sleepy, but I found that I was itching for something again. That same something was the reason I had slept with five different women over the past few months.

I knew deep down that it was about to happen again, that I couldn't resist because I needed to feel something tonight. I needed to touch and to be touched. I needed to feel alive, because I was constantly surrounded by death.

So I got changed out of my work clothes and into my 'going out' clothes and tried to make myself look at least a little bit presentable to go to a bar. I locked my door behind me and headed down the stairs to the street. I was still tired after the two all-nighters I had pulled, so I stopped at the convenience store on the way to the bar to grab an energy drink or a coffee or something. I guess the girl I just about knocked over as we both turned a corner at the drink aisle had the same idea. She was heading to the cash register and I was heading to the glass refrigerators, and both of us were looking down. I was staring at my phone, about to send a text to Maura, and she was concentrating on the bottle she had in her hand, reading the label.

We crashed into each other and I dropped my phone but managed to hold on to her before she fell backwards and hit the ground.

'Holy shit!' I exclaimed as I helped her regain her balance. I tried, unsuccessfully, not to think about how nice her body felt in my arms.

'Sorry,' she squeaked out, holding on to my upper arms as she looked into my eyes. 'I should really watch where I'm going.'

'No, it was my fault,' I said, smiling at her as I bent down to pick up my phone and the bottle that she dropped during the collision. Luckily it hadn't broken.

She smiled back at me and took the bottle back when I held it out to her. Our fingers lingered a little longer than usual as they made contact during the exchange. Her hair was dirty blonde and short, in between spiky short and a bob, I guess is the best way to describe it. And she had on a loose tank top with an assortment of interesting tattoos up and down both arms. If only she hadn't smelled so good, I might have been able to just say goodbye and leave. But there's just something about how a woman smells that gets to me, I've found. It reminds me of Maura.

'I'm Jane,' I said, looking her up and down with a crooked smile on my face.

'Jane,' she repeated, giving me the once-over as well, 'It's nice to meet you. You can call me Britt.'

I couldn't help but feel a little cocky, because I could sense immediately that she was into me.

'Looks like we've got the same idea,' I said, inclining my head at her energy drink and her clothing. 'I was just about to grab one of those.'

She nodded, smirking. 'You must be going out. Where you headed?'

'Depends,' I said. 'Where are _you _headed?'

We ended up going to the bar together; we drank a little bit, not too much though because I found that I liked to remember my experiences with women the next day. Plus I'm not so good with hangovers. Who is, really?

And we talked a little bit before I got antsy and restless, grabbed her hand and led her to the bathroom. I pushed her up against the wall inside the bathroom stall and took her standing up, holding her up when her knees grew weak. I was so turned on that all it took was a little grinding against her leg to get me off right before I got her off.

But as we straightened up our clothing and I washed my hands in the sink, I felt dissatisfied. Sexually satisfied, yes, definitely. But something was missing. I knew what it was, of course, but there wasn't anything I could do about it.

I didn't even feel bad as I paid the bar tab and left Britt there alone. She wanted my number but I had already decided that I was finished with her; I got what I needed that night and I didn't really want to see her again. Harsh, I know, but what can I say? I've got it bad for somebody else. It's not my fault I can't get that particular honey blonde woman out of my head. I was to the point now where I imagined that the woman I'm with at the moment is actually Maura, and that was the only thing that was getting me close to the edge.

I went home and went to bed, ready to get to work the next day so that I could see Maura again.

. . . . . . . . .

A month or so passed and work went on as usual. Everything was as normal as could be. People were still getting killed, Boston homicide was still trying to figure out who did it and why. The world was still spinning and life was going on as it tends to do.

But things for me were as far away from normal as they could possibly be. I was spiraling out of control. Not like with alcoholism or drugs or porn addiction or anything like that. Well . . actually, there were a few scenes that played on a continuous loop in my head at all hours of the day, pretty explicitly wonderful scenes. I was pretty much fantasizing at any and every free moment that I had. So if that counts as a porn addiction, then so be it.

It was becoming more and more difficult to keep a handle on my feelings and attraction for Maura. I kept noticing little things about her that made me fall even harder for her. The way she would stare blankly at me for a while when I made sarcastic comments to her: so damn cute. And one day I walked into the morgue and she was dancing to some Earth Wind and Fire playing full blast from her speakers. She didn't see me until she turned around and she was a little embarrassed, but I honestly had no idea she could move like that. I couldn't help but think about how good she would be in bed. Particularly in my bed.

And then she speaks so lovingly to Bass and he's not even a good pet. I don't know if it's cute or sad, but I love it.

It sucked, you know? I was so torn between being terrified of what she would think if I told her how I felt about her, and . But I hadn't even told her about the six women I had slept with/fucked this past year. How was I supposed to bring that up? _Oh, and Maura, by the way, I'm sorry I haven't told you yet but I'm gay and I've already made the beast with two backs with six women._

I guess I shouldn't have been nervous. She was my best friend, after all. But I was just so unsure of myself when it came to her. I mean, yeah, I knew how to be myself around her, she made that easy. But I was unsure of whether or not I could keep my hands and even eyes off of her enough so that it didn't look like I was being too touchy feely. Because I wanted to touch her and stare at her ALL the time.

And I didn't want to ruin our friendship if she did end up rejecting me. I cared too much about her, and I wanted to always be around her. If that meant not being with her in the way that I wanted, then I could learn to live with it. Maybe.

…

So on one typical Sunday night, Maura and I were relaxing on her couch. I was drinking a beer and she was having a glass of red wine. Typical. The Red Sox were playing, so naturally, I was yelling at the TV and she was reading the latest medical journal. Also typical. This was pretty much routine for us. Finish up work and go to either her place or mine and relax on the couch. Today was a Sunday, so Ma invited the both of us to family dinner at her place. It was delicious as usual, but I didn't want to stay long. Ma can be so overbearing it's ridiculous sometimes. She boxed up some leftovers for us and sent us on our way, practically begging for me to come visit more often.

When it's not Sunday, sometimes Maura would cook something healthy for us and other times I would order Chinese takeout or pizza. The latter times were few and far between because she _insisted_ that we eat healthy food. Blah blah blah. I love pizza.

I picked up Jo Friday on my way over after work and she was curled up next to Bass in the corner, the tortoise's usual hiding place. And eventually Jo needed to be let out, so I took her for a walk while Maura cleaned up a bit and got ready to go to bed. It was like we were already married, I swear.

When I got back, I locked the door behind me, set Jo's leash on the counter and flipped out the lights as I made my way back to Maura's bedroom. I hadn't slept in her guest bedroom in quite a while. It was better for both of us, I guess, to sleep in the same bed. After my experiences with Hoyt and Maura's experiences with Paddy Doyle, we both the needed each other's comfort.

Maura was already sleeping by the time I brushed my teeth and changed into a t-shirt and boxers that I kept in a drawer that she had cleaned out for me. (married, I know). So I got settled in next to her on my side of the bed and punched my pillow a bit to get it in the shape I wanted. I wasn't sleepy yet, so I just laid there staring up at the ceiling, thinking about the day, thinking about Maura.

She had an insanely comfortable king-sized bed, so there was plenty of room for the both of us, but somehow, she always managed to scoot a little closer to me and slide her perpetually cold feet in between my calves for warmth. I only complained about this a few times, but that night I simply enjoyed the feeling of her skin against my own, even if it was just her feet. They were nice feet though, very soft.

As the clocked ticked on further and further closer to midnight, I was getting more and more restless. It was becoming too much to sleep so close to her in the same bed. She rolled away from me eventually when her feet warmed up, and I started to toss and turn, trying to find a comfortable position. Her back was towards me and I stared at her, wondering what she would do if I wrapped my arms around her middle and pulled her close to me. Would she wake up? Would she care if she did wake up? Would she push me away?

Shit.

I dealt with hardened criminals countless times and I'd been in all kinds of harrowing situations, but I couldn't manage to summon up the courage to do something about my feelings.

Eventually, I guess I fell asleep.

The next day, Maura woke up before I did because she needed more time than me to fix her hair in that perfect, flowy, curly way that she does. When I stumbled into her bathroom about thirty minutes later, her eyes grew wide at the sight of me.

'Jane, your eyes are bloodshot. And you have dark circles,' she said as she turned to me and leaned in, inspecting my sleepy face a little closer. 'Did you not sleep very well last night?'

I was still groggy and a little grumpy that I certainly had not slept well last night, so I only answered her with a grunt as I pushed past her so that I could pee. When I finished, I came back out and she gave me some room in front of her gargantuan mirror. I washed my face and ran my fingers through my unruly hair until it looked a little better.

'Here, use my mascara. It'll help.'

I glared at her because, dammit, it was her fault I didn't get any sleep. I took the mascara from her and applied a bit quickly to each of my eyelashes. Looking in the mirror, though, I didn't look much better at all. We finished getting ready and I made toast while she made coffee, and we sat for about five minutes in silence before it was time to go. I left Jo Friday there, planning to come get her during my lunch break, and we walked out the door.

We took our separate cars to the station, and arrived there within a couple minutes of each other. We said goodbye to each other and I went upstairs to the squad room and she went downstairs to the morgue. As I sat down at my desk, I heard a low whistle.

'Damn, Jane. What happened to you?' Frost asked, looking me over.

I glared at him. 'Nothing. Shut up and leave me alone,' I snapped. He raised his eyebrows and turned back to his computer, realizing quickly that today was going to be one of those days where you just did not mess with Rizzoli.

But I couldn't concentrate on my work. We had a few cold cases we were working on, but nothing too serious, so it wasn't that big of a deal. I found myself staring off into space more than once that morning. I wasn't feeling very good. I guess it was because I stayed up half the night trying to come to grips with my feelings.

I needed to figure this out. Should I tell her, or should I not tell her? Should I tell her everything? Including the fact that I've been in love with her for I don't even know how long, that I want to be with her and grow old with her and love her forever and ever. Or should I just tell her I found out recently that I'm gay and that I've been seeing women for the past year and I'm sorry I didn't tell her, I just didn't know how.

I decided that it might be best to start out with just that last one. Baby steps, Rizzoli. Baby steps.

…

So at about 11 am, I went down to the morgue. My palms were sweaty, and I was nervous, but I couldn't take it any longer. I had to get this off my chest. As I entered the morgue, I was a little grateful that everyone except for Maura was dead down there so that they wouldn't be able to hear my sordid little secret.

I found her in her office, seated in front of her computer.

'Hey Jane,' she said cheerfully as she looked up at me. 'You look significantly more awake than you did earlier this morning. The coffee helped?'

I nodded. 'Yeah, the third or fourth cup finally did.'

'Good. What's up?' she asked.

I didn't quite know how to begin.

'Maura, I have to tell you something,' I said, rushing through my words.

She frowned because no one likes to hear that sentence. 'Is this about why you couldn't sleep last night?'

'No,' I answered quickly. I needed to suck it up and just do it. Just say it! 'Well sort of. Listen, you know I haven't been dating many guys this past year . . . '

'None, actually,' she said matter-of-factly. 'I've been keeping track. That's probably why you're so grumpy all the time. You know, sex releases . . '

'I know I know,' I said quickly, cutting her off before she could drown me with google. 'Cortisol and norepi something and Immunogobble-something or other. Okay, so you've been keeping up with my love life, awesome, but there's something you don't know about that I need to tell you.'

'Really?' she asked, brows furrowed, like she couldn't imagine there being anything in the world that she didn't know.

'Yes,' I hesitated, but then I summoned up all my courage and just let it all out.

I started with telling her about how it started with the undercover work at Merch when my curiosity was piqued and how I felt when that bartender kissed my neck. And then I told her about how I went to the gay bar a few blocks from my house and met a woman (another bartender) there who I went home with. And then I told her that I had been with a couple other women spread out over several months and about the most recent one, Britt, in the bathroom of that same gay bar.

She listened intently, never interrupted me, just nodded her head a few times, indicating that she was actively paying attention. I was relieved to see that she didn't look particularly shocked or disgusted. She was just lost in thought, it seemed, and she was quiet for a few moments.

I didn't like the silence, so I started talking again, wanting her to understand what I had been going through, the torment I had been feeling over all this. Even though she couldn't really understand the torment unless I told her about how I was attracted to her more than those six other women combined.

'Maura, I've been fighting that stereotype my whole life, and especially now that I do what I do every day. I work in a man's line of work and people think that just because I'm tough and carry a gun and run around catching bad guys that I must be a lesbian. And here I am, proving them all right.

She looked up at me then, and I could see the compassion and love in her eyes. It looked like friendly love, not lover's love. But hey, I've been wrong before.

'Jane, I don't think it's a simple as that. Your job has nothing at all to do with who you are attracted to. Studies show that sexual orientation is determined by a combination of genetic, hormonal, and environmental factors. In fact, the Kinsey scale describes human sexuality as being on a continuum,'

'Okay, okay, thank you Maura,' Jane said, stopping the google again. 'So you're okay with this?'

Maura turned her head to the side, like she didn't quite understand the question.

'Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be? I know that you can't choose who you fall in love with. I just wish you hadn't been afraid to tell me before.'

I nodded. 'I know. And I'm sorry about that. I just didn't know how to tell you.'

She smiled then and looked curiously at me. 'So exactly how many women, Jane?'

I froze. I wasn't expecting her to be so interested in the details, but I should have known. She's interested in just about everything if it can possibly make her brain bigger. But it was a little bit satisfying that she wanted to make sure I wasn't screwing every female that walked.

'Jane?' she asked, sensing my discomfort. 'How many?'

'Uh . . . ' I hesitated. 'Six.'

'Oh,' she said, shrugging. 'I thought you were going to say more, like twenty or so. Six isn't that large of a number for an entire year.'

'Wow, thanks Maura.' I said sarcastically. The comment flew over her head, of course.

'Are you still seeing any of them?' she asked innocently, but she glanced down at her computer screen as she asked it, avoiding my eyes. Hmm.

I shook my head. 'No, I didn't give any of them my number.'

'I see,' she said as she began typing something. 'So they were all one-night-stands then?'

Clearing my throat, I nodded. 'Yeah,' I managed to get out. She looked almost happy at my answer to that last question.

. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .. .

We were busy as hell the next couple days with a string of prostitute murders, and we didn't have any truly solid leads except for some radical religious group who seemed possibly volatile enough to take out the undesirable members of the community like homeless people and prostitutes and drug addicts.

Maura and I didn't get much more of a chance to talk about my new life with women. She had been curious about all of it and squeezed as much info as she could out of me when I took her out to lunch on Wednesday. But it was like I thought before, she was an intelligent woman and she simply wanted to know more about what I had been through. Simply for educational reasons.

But my attraction for her wasn't growing any weaker. It was probably even more pronounced, now that I had to be even more careful about hiding it, now that she knew I liked women. It's like I said before, I didn't want to ruin what we had, so I just couldn't risk taking the chance of trying something with her and throwing our friendship away. It was the weirdest thing though, I was trying harder and harder to stay away from her, to refrain from touching her if I could. Being near her made it hard to breathe and concentrate, but it seemed, strangely enough, that she was acting the exact opposite.

Every chance she got, she stood close to me, invading my personal space. She would touch my arm as she spoke to me, squeeze my bicep as she said goodbye and walked away. She'd turn her head back and smile once more at me when she left. I was trying so hard not to constantly stare at her, but more than once, I caught her staring right at me. She'd grin at me a little guiltily when I caught her and look away. We hadn't stayed over at each other's houses since Sunday night due to all the hectic hours with this prostitute serial killer. And that was probably a blessing, because I didn't think I could handle sleeping in the same bed with her again. Especially with her acting weird now. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was openly flirting with me. But that couldn't be possible. Simply couldn't be.

She was definitely attracted to men, and there was no way she would be into me.

Was there?

.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Finally, we finished work at the same time and we ended up at Maura's house for the evening. I was so stressed about the prostitutes (we had had two more killed during the week) that I wasn't even thinking about the escalating situation between the two of us. I had thought only briefly about the increased flirting and the way Maura seemed to glare jealously at me when I spoke to other women, and the fact that she was always in my bubble whenever we were near each other.

But back to the case. I needed to rebound some ideas off of Maura, try and get a fresh outlook on this prostitute thing. So I started walking and talking. Reciting every fact I knew from the case. She wasn't saying anything, she was just letting me go on, pacing like a crazy person. Maura was seated on the arm of the couch with her arms crossed, watching me. She looked a little antsy as well. And I had successfully ignored, so far, how stunning she looked in her designer slacks and pressed white shirt.

I was pacing back and forth, stressing out. I walked towards the kitchen and back. On my way towards the kitchen for the fourteenth or fifteenth time, I turned around ready to pace back the other direction and stopped dead in my tracks.

Maura was standing directly in front of me.

How she got up and across the living room so quickly and quietly I have no idea. I guess it was because she had taken her heels off. Those things, although they made her calves look pretty damn incredible, let you know about a mile away that she was heading towards you. We were face to face, she was a few inches shorter without the heels and she was looking up at me. And for a brief second we were breathing the same air, maybe three or four inches away from one another.

Before I knew what was happening, she had her hands on my face, one cupped my jaw and the other migrated to the back of my neck, pulling me closer to her.

My mind went blank.

The case melted away. My worries melted away. I was only here and now in this moment. When our lips met, I didn't know what to do. It was so unexpected and out of nowhere, so I just froze. That didn't stop her, however, and the hand on my face moved down and around to my back, pulling our bodies together, coaxing me out of my shocked state. My arms seemed to move of their own volition around her body. And we fit perfectly together.

Oh God.

And time stood still. There was nothing around us at that moment. The universe was nonexistent. It was only me and Maura and her lips and my lips and her smell was simply intoxicating, and the synapses in my brain didn't even know what to do with themselves. I'm sure Maura has some scientific explanation for it. Overload of the senses is how I would describe it.

Her body pressed against mine, even fully clothed, felt like something I don't even know how to describe. Not to mention, she was still kissing me. Her soft, beautiful lips were on mine, her tongue was seeking out mine, searching for its mate. It seemed like slow motion, but it couldn't have been more than two or three seconds when I finally came to my senses and managed to comprehend what was happening. I wanted nothing more than to let her continue the slow exploration of my mouth, but I had to know where this was coming from. I had to know why she did it.

Slowly, I opened my eyes and pushed her softly away. Her eyelids fluttered a bit and when they opened, I felt a surge of butterflies in my abdomen that spread out through my fingertips and toes. Her pupils were dilated and those hazel irises with hints of green were even more breathtaking up close. I forgot for a second what I wanted to say to her.

Apparently though, she knew what I was thinking.

'Jane,' she said, her voice deeper than usual. I just about turned to silly putty then in her arms. 'I know.'

_You know?_ I thought. My brow furrowed in confusion. How could she possibly know? She doesn't do well reading people. The social stuff isn't really her strong point.

'What do you mean?' I managed to whisper, my voice weak.

'Jane,' she said again, making my knees shake a little bit. My name on her lips, those lips she had just kissed me so passionately with, was probably the most erotic thing up to that point I had ever heard. I was so whipped when it came to this woman. 'I know how you feel about me.'

I needed to sit down. This was too much. No way could she have known; I hid it from her like a pro. Or at least I thought I had.

I pulled away from her, reached down to grasp her hand in my own, and led her over to the couch. How fitting that we were here on the couch now, sitting next to each other like we had so many times before, preparing to process what had just happened to us. But this time was a little bit different.

Facing each other, I took a deep breath and stared at her, brows still knit together. 'How? How did you know?'

She smiled at me then, tilting her head a little to the side like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 'Come on, Jane. I know you better than I've known anyone in my entire life.'

I considered this for a second and nodded my head slightly because she was right about that. Maybe she was more perceptive about me than I gave her credit for. She went on.

'You've been acting agitated lately, and you get nervous and a little jumpy around me. Sometimes I find myself studying your common carotid artery, which pulses rather prominently in your neck. When I'm close to you, I notice a significant increase in your heart rate.'

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head in disbelief at her. 'Really, Maura?' I asked.

Not really understanding that she was a super weirdo for watching my pulse beat in my neck, she looked back at me with a straight face. 'Yes, really. But it's not just that,' she said as she reached over and grasped one of my hands in her own.

Her touch was so welcome and comforting, I didn't even think about my scars as she softly caressed the stiffness out of the tendons and muscles. 'You've been avoiding me ever since we talked about what you've been up to this past year. And not to mention the tension between us has been increasing more and more ever since last year, and I was wondering if you were ever going to say anything about it.'

She was right, of course. The tension was getting a bit out of control. But why did I have to be the one to address it?

'Why didn't _you_ say something about it?' I asked, narrowing my eyes at her.

She just shrugged and gave me that innocent look that gets me every time. 'I was unsure about whether or not you wanted to actually have a relationship with me.'

'So why did you make the first move?'

Raising a perfect eyebrow at me, she frowned. 'I couldn't stand waiting any longer. I wanted to find out whether or not I was correct in my observations, and I thought for the longest time that you would be the first to try something. You did say, after all, that you would be the guy in a lesbian relationship. The male usually initiates the first contact. But you just took too damn long, Jane, and I don't like to be kept waiting.'

I laughed at this last remark. Namely because Maura typically doesn't curse, but also because I had been nervous and apprehensive for nothing. She knew all along. But wait, what about how she felt? Was it just a physical thing for her, or did she want it all just as much as I did?

I guess she sensed that I had closed back up in thought, so she reached up and held my face in her hands again, looking directly into my eyes. Damn, this woman could read me like a book.

'Jane, I know I've told you before that I love you, but you should know that I feel the same way you do. I've been _in_ love with you for a long time now.'

I think I almost passed out at that point out of sheer deliriousness and happiness. I just couldn't believe that this incredibly beautiful and intelligent woman would love me, Jane Rizzoli. I'm just a blue collar homicide detective from South Boston, and she's . . . Maura Isles, you know? I would never admit this to anyone but Maura, but I might have had something in my eye that caused it to water when she told me that.

Neither of us was very good at expressing and relating our emotions. I'm kinda like a guy in that respect, I guess, because I bottle up my emotions and I'm not so good with affection or things like that. And Maura was a bit of an outcast growing up because she was so much smarter than all the kids around her, and her parents weren't exactly good at showing that they loved her, so she doesn't have much social experience with affection either.

But dammit, I'm supposed to be the brave, courageous one. I've been in gunfights and standoffs and hostage situations and I'd willingly put myself in front of a bullet for the good people of Boston, but for some reason I didn't have the guts to try anything with my best friend. I guess I was just too worried about messing things up, ruining what I already had with her. But she . . . she is an incredible woman. Turns out, she's braver than I am.

I had to tell her the whole story now. I had to get all of it out there.

'All those other women,' she looked down, avoiding eye contact with me. 'They meant nothing to me. In fact,' I said, as I placed my hand on her chin and raised her face up to mine so that I could look into her beautiful eyes. 'I wished, every time that I was with one of them, that it was you instead. I love you so much, Maura.'

She now had tears rolling down her face too. Finally. Finally, we had gotten over ourselves and admitted our love for one another. It had been there all along, but it just took a little push to get us both to realize it.

I pulled her close to me and brought our lips together into a slightly salty kiss that started out slow and sweet and turned into something more heated. What started out as a spark between us had turned into a smolder that was gradually building and building into a blazing inferno. Our kisses became more urgent as I pushed her back onto the couch, sliding my body up against hers. Her hands were all over me, like they were desperately trying to feel every part of me that she hadn't had the chance to explore before now. I was running my tongue along her jaw, growing dizzy in her smell again, when her hands pushed softly on my shoulders.

'Jane,' she managed to whisper. I lifted my head so that I could look into her eyes and I smiled tentatively, knowing that I screwed up already somehow.

'What's wrong?' I asked.

'It's nothing, really,' she said as I sat up on my knees and pulled her into a sitting position. 'I've just . . . never done . . . this,' she gestured between us, 'before and I'm not exactly sure that I'm ready.'

I shook my head, cursing inwardly at myself. 'You're right, Maur, you're right. I took it way too fast. I'm sorry.'

'It's really not too fast, Jane. We've been dancing around this for a long time now. It's just that I've been hurt by so many men in the past and you mean so much to me. And not to mention the fact that you're more experienced in this area than I am and I think I need to take it a bit more slowly.'

Nodding now, I completely understood. We were meant for each other, and we had the rest of our lives to jump headfirst into the sack together. Right now was the time to enjoy the blossoming of this new relationship.

'Of course,' I said. 'Let's go to bed . . . to sleep,' I added quickly, 'and since tomorrow is Saturday and neither of us has to work, I'll take you out to brunch.'

'Detective Rizzoli, you're going to take me out on a date?' she asked with a sly smile as she stood up and helped me clean up in the kitchen. I made sure the front door was locked and I flipped out the lights as she led us towards my bedroom. Joe Friday's little paws clicked along behind us.

'I said _brunch_, Dr. Isles. _Brunch._ That's definitely not a date. Dinner and a movie is a date. And that's what we'll do after we have brunch.'


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N – been super busy lately, but I knocked out about half of this chapter last night. Jumped around a little bit in this one with Hoyt flashbacks, hope it's not too confusing. Enjoy!**

**Oh, and DEFINITELY this one is rated M. **

_**Chapter 3**_

The next morning, I woke up enveloped in warmth. Initially I wasn't sure where the warmth came from, but as I slowly pulled my mind out of its foggy slumber, I began to recall the events of the previous night.

And my stomach dropped immediately as I remembered Maura stopping in front of me as I paced, our lips pressed together for the first time. . . It was so much better than any other kiss I've ever had, man or woman, I don't even know how to describe it really. It was just breathtakingly incredible. My dreams had been filled with thoughts of her perfect lips doing sinful things to my body, and to feel, to actually taste, those lips was more than I could have hoped for. The way we fit together was probably the best part, and I never wanted to kiss anyone else's lips as long as I lived.

And god, I felt like shit when she pushed me away from her on the couch and I realized that I was taking things too fast. Such an idiot!

Sure, Maura is no prude and she enjoys sex as much as the next person, but the thing about her is that her mind is highly analytical. This is just a guess but I'd be willing to bet money that she is very, very knowledgeable about anything and everything having to do with heterosexual sex. I'm sure she knows technical terms for every single body part and exactly what it does and which chemical signals go where and all that shit. And, maybe just maybe ... Since she knows just about everything there is to know about the human body and its anatomy, I'm thinking she knows exactly how to make someone (a man, at least) feel good. She's always spewing out facts about one fetish or the other at a crime scene and maybe it's just her googlemouth talking, but I'm thinking it has more to do with her personal experience. And that has to mean she's kinky too. I don't know though, just a guess. Maybe I'm just being hopeful.

Anyway, she'll need to get all her ducks in a row and figure out exactly what women want and like and need. She'll need to research and get second opinions and run several tests just to be sure. Kidding about that last part.

As for me, on the other hand, I just kind of fell face first into all of it, operating on feelings and intuition and trial and error. That's just the way I roll. That's why I'm a damn good detective.  
Worked out well for me I think. And those women I was with didn't have any complaints after all.

Naturally, I've been thinking about all this since we first kissed. And all the nights we've stayed together since then.

But that first night, when she told me she wasn't ready, and we were lying next to each other in bed, I wanted more than anything to just wrap my arms around her incredible body, pull her close to me, and make sweet passionate love to her. Shit, I felt like a horny teenage boy, wide awake and unable to control my hormones and desires, where every single movement and seemingly innocent touch set every nerve in my body on fire with lustful need.

But I was good. I restrained myself and respected her boundaries. But let me assure you, it wasn't easy.

So where was I? Oh yes. Wrapped up in her warmth, her grip deceptively strong around me. I was on my side, like I normally slept, and she was facing me, her head nuzzled into the crook of my neck, most of its big-brained weight on my shoulder (now numb and tingly) her arms wrapped possessively around my side, our legs intertwined. Her soft, even breath tickled the skin on my neck. And I thought then about how awesome it was to wake up next to her, and not just next to her as in the same bed having accidentally fallen asleep there the night before, but actually next to her as in waking up in her arms.

I guess she must have registered my subtle movements as I woke up and tried to adjust myself, because she shifted a bit in my arms. Her head tilted up and her eyes opened, blinking slowly.

'Morning,' she rasped out and I smiled at her morning breath and her sleep roughened voice.

'Good morning,' I said as I kissed her forehead. 'Did you sleep good?'

'Well, Jane. Well.' she said exasperatedly, if that's possible the first thing in the morning.

I wasn't sure if that was an appropriate answer for my question, so I just stared at her blankly.

'Adverb, Jane. Good is an adjective and well is an adverb. But yes, thank you. I did sleep _well_.' she enunciated the last word. 'I always do with you.'

That last part made my heart flutter around in my chest and caused me to forget about how annoying it is when she corrects me.

'I always sleep "well" with you too, Maur. You, uh.. . ' And I hesitated then because I'm not very good about expressing my emotions and describing my feelings. Plus I don't like to come off as weak.

She frowned and squeezed me around the middle. 'What is it?' she asked.

I realized then that I had nothing to be afraid of when it came to Maura. She was the one who makes me feel safe. She was home. I had no reason to hold anything back from her. But that still couldn't change the fact that I don't like to talk about my feelings.

'You . . . keep my nightmares away, Maura.'

Maura's expression spoke volumes. She didn't have to say anything. She knew all about Hoyt and all about his obsession with me. It took some time and some gentle coaxing on Maura's part to finally get the story out me. I never talked about how I got the scars on my hands to anyone, not even Korsak and he witnessed it. And even though they hurt when it got cold or it was about to rain or especially when I woke up sweating in the middle of the night after a particularly vivid nightmare, I tried my best to ignore them. People in the office stared at them because they had heard rumors about what he did to me. I couldn't stand the fact that people thought I was weak because that monster had come so close to killing me. That event changed my life. I couldn't even be partners with Korsak anymore.

Maura and I weren't as close of friends at that point. Hell, I had only been to her house a few times. I didn't even see the bedrooms and bathrooms until Hoyt escaped custody. It didn't matter that he was behind bars, he was in almost every one of my dreams, and he terrified me. I was scared that night and she comforted me in a way that nobody else could, in a way that I didn't want anybody else to. When I stayed over at her house that night, that was the true beginning of our relationship growing stronger.

Frost and I had gone to see him in prison before he escaped custody; we were following up on information that he had trained an apprentice. He sat there all smug and creepy in his orange jumpsuit, his eyes the same cold, empty grey-ish blue that I remember so vividly hovering over me as I was pinned to the floor by his scalpels. I was revolted by him. He made me want to vomit in the same way that Frost couldn't stand the sight of blood and guts during autopsies or crime scenes.

And he asked me, 'Do you dream about me, Jane?'

'Cause I dream about you.'

In my head I couldn't help but wonder how he knew. How could he possibly know that I dreamt of him every single night, that I didn't sleep just so that I could avoid seeing him again? Home was supposed to be a safe haven for me, my bed was supposed to be warm and comforting. But I was terrified to go to sleep, to live through it again and again.

I told him I never dreamt of him. But he could see right through me. He could see the fear in my eyes. He could smell it, even. He knew exactly what he had done to me.

But when Ma came over that night and was annoying the hell out of me, I left my apartment and went over to Maura's. For some reason I already felt safe with her. We slept in the same bed that night. It was platonic, of course, and I wasn't even thinking then about how truly attracted I was to her. I was much too scared for that. But I didn't dream of Hoyt at all that night. Not at all.

I look back on all that and I remember how he and his apprentice lured me into their van a couple days after I saw him in prison. I can still smell him as he leaned over me. Again. The fear I felt was almost palpable. And I can still smell, too, the charcoal scent of the flare as I held it close to my body and then shoved it into Hoyt's face, blinding him temporarily. The shots I fired into his apprentice's body still ring in my ears when I think about it, and the final shot I fired giving Hoyt scars to match my own is the one I remember most vividly. I could've ended it then. I could have killed him. Why didn't I just shoot him through the forehead? Why did I let him live?

I ask myself that all the damn time. But Maura really does help. Her presence helps with me cope with my fear.

And every night we've slept in the same bed since then, I feel safe. My nightmares are mostly gone. So she would have no idea, unless I had previously told her, which I hadn't, that I had nightmares at all. Because every night she was with me, I slept peacefully. But now was as good a time as any to tell her.

And she stared at me as I held her in my arms, and I tried to keep the tears from building up in my eyes. I hated showing emotion like that. She leaned in and kissed me gently, conveying as much love as she could in the gesture. I kissed her back, wanting to savor this moment. This woman was meant for me, was perfect for me. She (and I know this sounds cliché, but it's true, damn it) completed me.

…

We got up, went to brunch, spent the day together and relaxed. It was nice. And things went along like that for the next few days. Granted, we were both pretty busy with cases and everything that following week, but I was feeling, I don't know, edgy I guess.

Things weren't progressing as quickly as I wanted them to. Like I said, I was like a horny teenager. I wanted her so badly I could barely stand it. It wasn't so bad though, I guess. I mean, we did make out again the following night, and her hands were all over my body. I knew she wanted me too. Her body gave it all away. You know what I mean. . . The soft moans, the gentle thrusting of her hips against mine, the way she deepened the kiss and pushed her tongue aggressively into my mouth...If only she wasn't so hesitant. If she could just let go and let her feelings and gut guide her.

All this PG-13 behavior wasn't enough for me.

I was at my apartment one night later in the week, Maura was still at the station, filling out some paperwork. And I was all alone. Well, not completely. Jo Friday was there, pleading at me with her puppy dog eyes for a walk or some food or hell, even some love. I don't know, I don't speak dog.

I walked her around the block, fed her and rubbed her belly for a while on the couch as I watched TV. She got bored pretty quickly though and scampered off into my bedroom to do who knows what. The ESPN highlights were on, but I found soon enough that I couldn't focus. My mind kept wandering. I tried to shake my head and hone in on something the talking heads were saying about the top ten plays of the day, this being my favorite part of the program every night, but I just couldn't do it.

My mind was going to fantasize, whether I liked it or not. And don't get me wrong . . . I liked it.

I kept picturing Maura in different places all over my apartment, in various states of undress, in various positions. I saw her up against my wall next to the door, with her head thrown back and my name on her lips. And then my eyes glanced over at my arm chair and I pictured myself sitting there, with Maura on her knees in front of me. And god, my fingers ached for her as I thought about how incredible her mouth would feel in between my legs.

I was beyond wet when I thought of her thrashing about beneath me on my bed, her hands gripping my hair, my lips on her neck and my fingers buried inside of her, making her come again and again.

I couldn't take it any longer. I slipped my hand down the front of my sweatpants, gasping lightly as I brushed past my overly sensitized bundle of nerves. It was ready. I was ready. I needed release.

It wasn't until recently that I started thinking about Maura when I touched myself. The thoughts and fantasies were becoming more realistic as our relationship became more and more complex and physically frustrating for me. And this was as vivid as it had ever been.

My fingers were practiced and sure, having made this trek countless times throughout my teenage and adult life. I dragged my fingers down through the moisture that had built up over the last few minutes and spread the wetness back up to my apex. It didn't take long. I didn't even try to hold off or extend the buildup. I came hard, closed my eyes and tilted my head back against the couch as I thought of Maura. I thought mainly about how much I wanted it to be her giving me that orgasm.

It felt incredible, but somehow. . . My urge, my need, my desire wasn't satisfied. I did want to get off, but I wanted something more. I wanted Maura in my arms, whispering in my ear.

I was sexually frustrated.

...

My frustration went on for the rest of the week, as Maura and I were both busy with work and too exhausted to do anything more than share a good-night kiss. I tried to convince myself that this was okay. That I was fine with just snuggling with her and being near her. I was definitely okay without the nightmares that surely would have revisited me if I had been sleeping alone.

I went down to the morgue the next day at work to get some info on one of our open cases. She was sitting at her computer, clicking every now and then, reading the screen attentively. I guess she didn't hear me walk in her office because she jumped when I leaned over her desk and smiled at her.

"Hello, Dr. Isles," I said quietly.

"Oh! Jane, you frightened me!" she said, and her face went a little red as she tried to X out of whatever had been on the screen.

'Maura, what are you looking at?' I asked curiously as I moved around her desk to see her computer screen.

'Nothing!' she said quickly, but her neck immediately started breaking out into tiny red bumps and I knew right away that she was lying. She couldn't hide anything from me.

'Maura . . .' I said accusingly.

She sighed. 'Okay, fine.' And she turned the screen towards me. As I read through what she had been looking at and tried to calm my now racing pulse, she explained.

'I was researching.'

And so she was. She was definitely on a website that sold sex toys. Wow.

'Yes, I see that,' I said slowly. 'What exactly were you researching?'

She bit her lip and stared up at me, and I melted a little bit when her big, green eyes met mine. She did the damndest things to me, I swear.

'Well,' she started, and I could see that she was about to go into full-on informative google Maura mode, so I leaned against her desk for support. 'I wanted to know everything there is to know about lesbian sexual interactions, so I went online. . .'

I just couldn't let her continue with that sentence.

'Maura,' I interrupted as I shook my head. 'Why couldn't you just ask me? I have a little experience you know.'

She pursed her lips at me and tilted her head as if it the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. 'I didn't want to be uneducated about it. I want to please you, Jane.'

I smiled at this because it was probably the sweetest thing I've ever heard, and I wanted to grab her and lick her face like Giovanni. I restrained myself, however.

'So you're looking at non-biological phallus shaped objects?' I asked, jokingly.

She reached over and punched my arm lightly. 'Dildos, Jane. They're called dildos.'

'And yes, I am looking at them. Strap-ons, to be more exact. But I think we should save that kind of play for later on, though, don't you?'

I coughed and spluttered a little, because damn it, she always catches me off guard with that kind of stuff. But I just had to know.

'Play, huh?' I asked, laughing. 'You're pretty kinky, aren't you Dr. Isles?'

She smiled up at me innocently.

'You have no idea,' she murmured.

. . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The case we were working on was pretty cut and dry. The husband, Clarence Walker, walked in on his wife in the throes of passion with one of her coworkers. Clarence went ballistic, grabbed a heavy candlestick from the dresser and bashed the coworker over the head with it. The guy fell to the ground, bleeding profusely, and the husband proceeded to strangle his wife to death. He took off after that, and left the coworker for dead on the floor.

Luckily for us, the guy wasn't dead. He woke up about ten minutes later, saw that the wife was dead and called the police. So then all we had to do was to find Mr. Walker.

I had kissed Maura goodbye that morning in her car before we went inside the station. We weren't out to anyone at the precinct, neither of us was ready for that yet, and I definitely didn't know how my mother was going to react. But regardless, the kiss in the car after we spent the night together, albeit sleeping, was becoming routine. It was something I could definitely get used to. It felt like it was going to be just another day at the office, with nothing really exciting happening. Maura told me to be careful, as usual. And I told her to watch out for zombies in the morgue, as usual. Normal stuff. I had no idea what the day would actually turn out to be like.

Turns out the husband was holed up in the warehouse district. We deducted that he ran out of cash and didn't want to risk being seen at a bank or an ATM, so he used his brain and also his credit card instead. Yeah, I know, real genius. Anyway, we tracked the guy and his purchases to a gas station where the attendant described him accurately along with the correct model and make of car and pointed us right down the block to an abandoned building. This was just too easy.

What wasn't so easy was when we busted down the side door and somebody started shooting at us. I ducked down and dove across the floor, rolling behind a couple of huge wooden crates, and Frost was right behind me. I risked a look, poking my head and shoulder around the corner of the crate. A whiz of bullets hit the wood near my head and exploded into a shower of splinters.

'Shit!' I said, as I pulled my head back. We had bullet-proof vests on as per standard procedure but no helmets or anything to protect ourselves further. 'Call for backup, Frost.'

And while Frost was on his radio, I slipped around the other side of the box, hoping to outflank Mr. Walker. I motioned over to Frost and he stayed where he was, hoping to be a distraction for me to get a little closer to the deranged man.

'Mr. Walker!' Frost yelled out. 'You need to slide the gun over here and come out with your hands on your head!'

He was met with a 'Fuck you!' and another slurry of bullets.

'Shit, how many guns does this guy have?' I heard Frost mutter as I moved further away from him.

'Jane!' he yelled over to me. I stopped and turned around. 'We need to wait for backup. We're gonna get shot!'

I rolled my eyes at him, thinking that he was probably right, but I knew how this Mr. Walker operated. He was a typical chauvinistic male. He strangled his wife to death without so much as asking for an explanation or anything. Lucky there were no kids in this marriage. I knew he would want to make a final stand. And I wanted to be in position to take him out when he did. Bastard. I planned on getting closer and waiting like Frost said for backup to arrive.

I could already hear the sirens approaching as I inched around another box to Mr. Walker's left. A SWAT team would be forming outside right about then. A couple more minutes and sure enough, I could hear a bunch of them shuffling forward. I couldn't see them, but I pictured their dark outfits and helmets with shields out in front of them. There was going to be a standoff and maybe they would need a negotiator. That would be me. I hoped, anyway.

One of the SWAT guys yelled at Walker to drop his weapon and come out, but he was also met with more bullets. Spur of the moment things always get me. I couldn't help but seize the opportunity of a perfectly good distraction. So I whipped out from behind the crate and found Walker huddled behind some boxes firing round after round at the SWAT guys. I was out of the SWAT guy's line of fire so I took my shot. I fired three times at him, hitting him in the arm, the chest and the hip. He turned as he fell to the ground and it seemed to happen in slow motion. I couldn't move as he raised his gun from his supine (one of Maura's words, I know, she's rubbing off on me) position on the floor and fired twice at me. The first one missed me completely, flying wide to my right, but the second one grazed my upper right arm. My adrenaline was flowing so I couldn't feel much, but the warm liquid running down my forearm was a dead giveaway to the wound.

Time seemed to speed back up as I moved out of his line of fire. The SWAT team moved in and surrounded him, kicking his weapon aside, throwing him on his stomach and handcuffing him. One of them called in an ambulance for his wounds, and another hustled over to me.

'Rizzoli!' Frost's voice rang out and my attention snapped away from the SWAT guy to my partner, who was running towards me.

'You okay? You're bleeding!' His eyes were wide and he looked mad.

'I said we needed to wait for backup! What the hell!'

I shook my head and shrugged. 'I did wait for backup, Frost. I let them distract the guy and then I took him out. No big deal.'

He holstered his gun and gingerly felt around my arm. Looking like he was about to get sick, he shook his head and moved away.

"You're out of your mind, Jane. And Maura's gonna kill you. If you don't die first from blood loss."

I grinned at him. "It's only a flesh-wound," And then I paused because something in that sentence was out of place. "Wait. . . What do you mean Maura's gonna kill me? Why would she kill me?"

He stared at me kind of like Maura does when something is blatantly obvious that I should be seeing but I'm not.

"Come on, Jane. I'm not blind. You've been acting different lately. You and Dr. Isles, both. I know something is up between you two."

I had to remind myself to close my mouth as I let Frost help me to the ambulance outside. He stood in front of me while the EMS cleaned me up and put a bandage over the wound.

"So you know," I said.

He smiled. "Well, I don't really _know_ anything. I just had a feeling. And you confirmed my suspicions."

I tried to reach out and punch him but the EMS held me back, chastising me for moving while she was still working on my arm.

"Jerk."

His expression indignant, he pointed his finger at me. "I'm the jerk?" he asked. "We're partners and you couldn't even tell me about you and the doc."

I rolled my eyes at him. "It's not like we go over to each other's places and braid each other's hair and talk about our love lives, Frost."

"That's true," he said thoughtfully. "I'm okay with it, though. Just so you know. I think you two are perfect for one another. Hell, you're practically already married."

Smiling at him, I was happy right then to be able to call this man my partner. He truly had my back.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Maura was waiting for me at her house. And naturally, at any workplace, word spreads like wildfire about anything exciting. And she heard plenty about me and Frost and Walker and all of it. She did not look happy.

I really did not need a lecture from her, though. I just got off the phone with my mother, explaining to her that I was fine, that I was involved in a shooting with a perp and that I was fine. I was totally fine. I just didn't want her to hear about what happened on the news before I told her myself. She was worried to death, as usual, and tried to talk me into quitting the force and becoming an accountant or something less detrimental to my health. So needless to say, I was not looking forward to the chastising I was going to get from Maura as well.

She was sitting on one of her barstools, sipping a glass of red wine when I opened the door. She jumped up out of the chair and click clacked over to me in her heels. Why she didn't take them off as soon as she got in the house, I don't know. Maybe she was too distraught tonight. I sure wouldn't be caught dead wearing those damn things for longer than about 10 minutes.

She threw her arms around my neck and squeezed me, being careful to avoid my upper right arm. Surely she had noticed the bandage on it right away.

'I'm okay, Maura.' I said into her hair. God, it smelled good.

'I was so worried about you when I heard where you and Frost were going. And then they were saying there were shots fired and I couldn't help but think that you weren't going to come home to me tonight.'

'I'm here now, Maura. I'm safe.'

She pulled away and looked like she was about to slap me. She restrained herself, I'm guessing because I was already injured, but she still looked pissed. Reaching down and holding out my arm, she peeked under the bandage at the wound, trying to decide, I'm sure, whether or not the EMTs did a good job with the clean up.

'Damn it, Jane. You could have been killed!'

I looked down, avoiding her eyes. 'I know. I should have been more careful. I'm sorry.'

'You're not sorry. You're too reckless and you don't think things through.'

Smiling, I knew she was right. 'But that's me, Maura. That's who I am.'

She leaned forward suddenly, grabbed my face with her hands and kissed my lips, devouring them hungrily. And then she pulled away.

'I love you just the way you are, Jane. I just don't want you to die. We are finally together and then you go and do something to stupid and risk your life.'

She turned on her heel and stalked off towards the bedroom. 'Now I'm going to take a shower and you can have the takeout I left for you in the fridge if you're hungry.'

My stomach growled at the thought of food because I hadn't eaten all day, and I set to work preparing myself a plate. I had to turn in my gun because of the shooting, but I had my spare with me just in case, so I set it down on the counter along with my badge and phone and opened a bottle of beer. The food was delicious and the beer was even better. Maura came out wrapped in a bath robe several minutes later with her hair still damp. I couldn't help but think about how much I liked her bare feet as I watched her walk towards me. I didn't get to see them enough because they were always enclosed in high heels. She looked so much more relaxed without any shoes on.

I rinsed off my plate and watched her sip her wine. She didn't speak, but I enjoyed just watching her. She was gorgeous, and I felt like the luckiest person on Earth to be alive to see this woman in the flesh, with only a bathrobe separating the open air of the kitchen from her warm body.

'You going to shower?' she finally asked, finishing her wine and standing next to me by the sink as she rinsed her glass. I was intoxicated by her smell. It was fresh, like soap and freshly laundered towels, and it was complex like gardenias and magnolias. It was like something you smelled briefly and wished you could go back and bottle up into a perfume so that you could smell it again every day for the rest of your life.

'Yes I am. I'll be right out.' I grabbed my gun and badge and phone, carried them to the bedroom and set them down on my bedside table. I could hear Maura in the living room turning out lights and locking the doors. I hopped in the shower, careful to avoid getting my bandage wet, and I was grateful that the wound wasn't very deep. It didn't hurt much as I moved my arms to shampoo my hair.

I finished quickly, brushed my teeth, and dressed myself in the tank top and boxers I always left in her drawer. I opened the door to the bedroom and was taken completely off guard when I met Maura face-to-face. She had changed into one of my mysteriously missing t-shirts and her black lacy panties. Where she found the faded grey Boston concert t-shirt, I have no idea. It was one of my favorites though.

I looked her up and down and smiled. 'You look incredible,' I said, and my voice came out like a growl. She didn't answer me. She looked like she was lost in thought, worried about something.

'What's wrong?' I asked, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her towards me. She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead on my collarbone, our height difference was more pronounced now that she wasn't wearing her heels.

She took a deep breath and looked up into my eyes. 'I feel like I almost lost you today, Jane.'

I shook my head. 'You didn't, Maura. I'm here and I'm safe with you now.'

She put her finger to my lips, stopping me. 'Let me finish. When I first heard about your involvement in the shooting, I was terrified because they didn't know who was shot and who lived and who died. I was afraid that I had lost you and I was terrified that I never took the opportunity to show you exactly how much I love you. We almost never got the chance to make love, Jane.'

My heart was racing then, and I couldn't do anything except stare into her eyes. The normally green eyes looked closer to hazel now in the fading light of her bedroom and I was lost in their depths.

'Take me to bed, Jane. I can't wait any longer.'

I didn't need any further urging. I had wanted this for far too long. I swooped down and kissed her, my mouth took control and possessed hers, exploring the warmth and my body pushed against hers, walking us both back towards the bed. The back of her knees hit the bed and she sat down. I straddled her and pushed her backwards. She scooted back towards the pillows and stared at me, her chest heaving and face flushed with desire. I crawled up the bed to her and placed my hands on her knees which were side by side in front of her.

Pushing gently on them, her legs opened wider and I slid my hands around to the sides of her thighs, running them down to where they almost touched her panties and back up again to her knees. I moved forward, positioning my body above hers and slowly lowered my weight onto her torso. Before I could go any further, she reached over and started to turn out the bedside lamp, the only source of light left on in the room.

I leaned up and grabbed her hand gently. 'No,' I whispered, my voice husking out into the semi-darkness. 'I want to see you. I want you to see me. And I don't want you to be ashamed or nervous.'

She nodded her head and licked her lips. I don't know if she did that on purpose or not, but it just about drove me crazy. I wanted her tongue on me.

'I'm not ashamed,' she said firmly. 'I just don't know what to do, Jane. I . . . '

I reached up and caressed her face, moving a strand of hair behind her ear. 'What is it?' I urged her.

'I want to make you feel good.'

I smiled, the irony that she had no idea what she did to me without even touching me, and she was worried about making me feel good. One touch in just the right place from her and I would have fallen to pieces right then and there.

'Maura, don't worry about that. It's not rocket science, baby.'

She shook her head, the worry was still evident in her furrowed brow. She glanced up at me and it looked like she was struck by an idea. She reached up and held my face in her hands, staring right into my eyes.

'Show me, Jane. Show me how to make you come.'

My stomach fluttered and everything else lower than that clenched in response. She wanted to watch me. Fuck! That was probably the most terrifyingly erotic thing I had ever heard someone suggest. It was fitting though, that I let her see me in a vulnerable position so that she could feel more comfortable. And besides, I'd do anything for her. If she told me to stand on my head and sing 'It's Raining Men' in the middle of a courtroom, I would probably do it.

'Okay. But let me undress you first.' And I took my time pulling that faded t-shirt over her head. I tossed it off to the floor and looked down at her. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her breasts were beautiful. Perfect, even. I couldn't resist them, so I leaned down, placing my hands on either side of her torso and nudged her head to the side with my cheek, granting myself further access to her neck. Her heart beat furiously beneath my lips as I sucked gently on her pulsepoint. I kissed my way from her neck to her chest, taking my time, as I let my tongue circle closer and closer to her nipple. My hand made its way up from its position on the bed to her ribs, and it closed finally on her other breast, squeezing its fullness and rubbing gently over the already hardened nipple. She breathed in sharply as my mouth sucked and flicked torturously slowly around it.

Her hands became agitated and restless, and she grabbed hold of my tank top hem and pulled up. I raised my arms up as it was swiftly removed from my upper body and flung across the room. She didn't waste any time with my boxers either, roughly pushing them down until her hands could no longer reach. My hands were occupied with her breasts, so she used her feet to push them the rest of the way off.

I was now completely naked and on top of her, and she thrust her still panty-clad pelvis up into mine, making direct contact with my clit. I almost came right then, but I pulled away and stared at her, my heart beating wildly in my chest.

'God, Maura. I want you.'

She shook her head. 'No, show me first.'

I liked this Maura. This demanding, in charge Maura. She could boss me around any time she wanted to. I leaned up and kissed her once more, parting her lips with my tongue and briefly exploring her mouth. Then I pulled back and handed her a pillow.

'Here, sit up against the headboard on these pillows.' She shot me a confused look.

'So you can see over my shoulder.'

'Oh,' she said simply and did what she was told.

'I'm gonna show you exactly what I do.' And I turned around and scooted my backside so that it was in contact with her front. Her breasts pressed into the sensitive skin of my back and her hands sliding around and touching my stomach and breasts were feelings I don't think I'll ever forget. She was up high enough to where she could easily see over my shoulder, and so I let my left hand drift down, down to where I needed it the most.

'Do you think about me often, Jane?' she husked into my ear. Fuck, this woman was a pro. Either that or she knew me really, really well.

'When I'm doing this?' I asked. I could feel her nod behind me, her lips kissing lightly along my shoulder. Her arms reached under mind and her fingertips caressed the skin on my thighs so gently it almost tickled.

'Yes. Every time.'

She breathed in and gasped lightly as she watched first one finger disappear into wet heat, then another soon after. She must have enjoyed the way my forearm flexed and bulged as I thrust my fingers inside because she ran her hand lightly along the muscles, feeling them rhythmically contract and relax. I brought my fingers out and they were completely coated with moisture. Spreading my legs just a little bit wider, I positioned my finger on the side of my clit and rubbed softly back and forth, showing her exactly what I liked and how fast and how hard I liked it. Every now and then I needed more lubrication, so I dipped back down for some more. I held myself on edge for a good couple of minutes, but she had me so turned on that I didn't know how much longer I could hold back.

She was licking along my shoulder now to my neck. Her lips were like heaven as they made their way up to my ear, kissing and nibbling along the outer shell, and darting her tongue once quickly inside. Chill bumps ran rapidly down my left leg and I could feel her smile into my cheek.

'May I?' she asked, letting her hand slide down my arm to cover my hand, now slick with my own fluids.

'Since you asked so nicely, yes, you may.' I said, moving my hand out of the way and guiding hers to where I wanted it. She hesitated for a brief moment and then seemed to sense a familiarity in her arm position. I had done that on purpose. Surely she pleasured herself this way, from the front like I figured most women did. She stroked me exactly as I had been stroking myself. She was a fast learner, and I was shaking in no time on the brink of an orgasm.

'That feels so good, Maura,' I told her, and she surprised me then by biting down on the crook of my shoulder and neck. It was a little painful, but the contrast between pleasure and pain felt amazing. Her hand left my sex and she placed both of them on my breasts and squeezed, pressing our bodies together as she pinched my nipples firmly. I was almost dizzy with ecstasy. And I couldn't hold myself back any more. But I needed to be sure she was ready for me to take her like I wanted to. I didn't want to do anything she wasn't ready for.

'I want to be inside you, Maura.' I managed to say as I twisted my head to look back into her face. Her pupils were dilated and she was biting her lip, obviously turned on.

She leaned to the side and kissed me passionately, now pushing her tongue into my mouth, taking the lead. 'Please,' she whispered as she broke the kiss.

And now that I had her permission, I turned around quickly and scooted her back down so that she was laying on the bed. I hooked my fingers on the sides of her panties and pulled them down over her legs. She was so beautiful. And so ready for me.

I pressed my body into hers and positioned myself slightly to her left side so that I had easy access. My hand traveled, teasing, its way down to her hips, lightly hovering and then finally I cupped her with my whole hand and pressed lightly up. She moaned and one of her arms wrapped around my torso while the other hand tangled up in my hair, pulling my body closer to hers. I made sure my finger was good and wet before I slowly pushed it inside of her. My eyes closed at the immediate feeling of wet, velvety heat that completely surrounded my finger. There couldn't possibly be a better feeling in the world than this right here.

I thrust it firmly into her and she gasped, her back arching a bit off the bed. I kept my finger buried inside her but I moved it deliberately backwards and forwards and she seemed to enjoy that, breathing sharply in on every upward thrust.

'More, Jane,' she said. And I obliged, pulling that finger out and making sure the next one was good and wet before I thrust both of them back into her. I curled them forward and she writhed beneath me, just like I imagined she would in my fantasy. Her breathing deepened and her hands began to grasp more desperately at my back, and I knew she was very close. I continued thrusting inside of her and kissing her neck and sucking gently on her breasts until I could feel her body begin to tense up. She pulled almost painfully at my hair and the muscles surrounding my fingers suddenly began to contract sporadically. At that moment, although the muscles were moving, the rest of her body was frozen, her mouth open and eyes closed. I thought perhaps I could extend what she was feeling as I pulled my fingers out and replaced them with my clit directly on hers. I pushed down and ground my hips forward, my left leg in between hers and my right one on top of her hip so that I had the best access. She immediately grabbed my hips and clutched them wildly down into her own, and her orgasm continued as mine was just starting.

I could no longer hold back as our bodies pressed together in such an intimate way, and she reached up around me and squeezed both of my nipples, sending me hurtling off the cliff and off into space as waves of pleasure washed over me, again and again until I didn't think I could take any more.

Fuck.

If I thought coming that first time with a woman was good, it was _nothing_ compared to how it was with Maura. Now _that_ was an earth-shattering orgasm.

My breathing finally slowed down and I collapsed to the side of my lover. My lover. Finally, I was able to say that this incredible woman was my lover, my soul mate. I looked over at her, and she, with her chest still heaving, smiled weakly at me.

'You're a natural, Maur.' I said, my body still shaking.

'Thank you, Jane,' she said, grinning. 'You're not so bad yourself.'

.. . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N – I'm just gonna quit apologizing for the delay, because surely the rest of you are as busy as I am. This is a long one! Enjoy! **

**Chapter 4 **

I knew it was going to happen.

I was in my bedroom, alone. So I knew that the nightmares were a sure thing. Maura was at her place because I had to stay late at work and she finished way earlier than me. And she needed to be ready early the next morning for a presentation she was giving at Boston University on encephalitis or something like that found during autopsy. So we agreed before she went home for the night that she should stay at her place and I would go back to my own since it was closer to the station and I was sure to be exhausted.

She was worried about me, of course. She asked if I would be okay by myself, and while she didn't say it, she didn't have to, she was really asking if I was okay sleeping alone.

And you know me, always the tough one. And stubborn. I told her I would be fine. I told her not to worry.

But she's not an idiot. Well, she's a genius, actually, but that's beside the point. So she pulled me aside in the hallway and looked right into my eyes. I melted, as usual, because she's incredible and she does that shit to me every day. She said to me, "Jane."

And I said, "Yes, Maura?" with only a little sarcasm, I promise. And she said, "It really isn't a big deal for me to get the things I'll need for tomorrow from my place and then come over to yours for the night."

I rolled my eyes and reached for her hands. "Maura," I reassured her. And myself. "It's one night. I'm a big girl and I will be just fine. I'm a detective for crying out loud. I can defend myself."

She didn't look convinced.

"There are only so many things a gun can protect you from, Jane."

. . . . . . . .

And she had been right about that. My gun didn't do me any good when I woke up sweating, sure as fuck that Charles Hoyt was standing over me as I slept, whispering to me as he caressed my cheek with his scalpel. The nightmares had come. Just like I knew they would. And I had tried to stay up as long as possible, tried to make sure that I was exhausted so that maybe I wouldn't dream at all. But it didn't work.

It was so vivid. I could still smell him in the air as I sat up and grabbed for my gun. I could feel him. My scars ached as I clenched and unclenched my hands, trying to make the tingling feeling in them go away. My eyes darted around the room, making sure it was just a dream, that he wasn't magically in two places at once. He couldn't be. He was safely locked up in prison. No way to escape.

I had to reassure myself over and over that I was alone in my bedroom, that the voices were only in my head and that my dream wasn't real. My heart was beating wildly against my ribcage, and the adrenaline in my system was still pumping, keeping my senses on high alert. That's when I noticed the eerie glow coming from outside. Of course there would be a fucking eerie glow. This was like a damned horror film playing out right here in my bedroom.

I got out of bed and walked slowly to the window. My tank top was stuck to my back with sweat, and reached behind me with my free hand to air it out a bit. Glancing out the window as I stood partially to the side, just in case, I could see a bright glow coming from down on the street. I squinted in the darkness and could barely make out what it was.

And fuck me sideways.

It was a flare.

Someone had lit a flare, just like the one I used to burn off half of Hoyt's face, and left it in the middle of the street, with no one around. Right outside my apartment.

By that time, I was more pissed off than scared, so I pulled on some pajama bottoms and went downstairs with my gun. Whoever had left the flare might still be down there and I was going to check it out. I tucked my keys in the elastic of my waistband and made my way down the stairs to the street. It looked like it had rained sometime during the night and my bare feet were cold against the pavement as I crept towards the brightly burning flare.

_Fuck you Hoyt. Fuck you for messing with my head. Why the hell was there a flare out here? Can this be a coincidence?_ A million other questions flew through my head as I stared, transfixed, at the flare.

Behind me, something moved in the bushes and I whipped around with my gun out, ready to shoot at Hoyt or whoever the hell it was. Rational or not, and regardless of whether or not I wanted to admit it, I was terrified. But it was only a cat, and I lowered my gun. I squatted down and used my shirt to pick up the flare so that I wouldn't leave any prints on it. I rubbed the burning wick out on the wet street and it went out almost immediately.

The hairs on the back of my neck and on my forearms were standing straight up. The temperature couldn't have been lower than 65 and I knew it wasn't from the cold anyway. I could feel someone watching me.

I knew they were out there somewhere, watching my scared expression as I carried around their fucking extinguished flare. If I could just find them/him/her, I'd shoot the cowardly bastard right in the heart. But I couldn't see anything. It was probably 4 in the morning and no one was out. So I hurried back inside, looking behind me probably two or three times to make sure I wasn't followed.

I got that feeling just then, you know the one. Where you're a little kid and you have to turn out the light in your room but as soon as you flip the switch, everything goes dark. You know deep down there's not really anything under your bed, but that doesn't stop you from running like hell and leaping onto your bed like an Olympian, scared to death that something's gonna grab you. You're shaking for a good thirty seconds as you sit in your bed with the covers safely over your vulnerable feet. Yep, that was the feeling I was trying to fight as I walked back up to my apartment. It was hard not to just take off running from whatever imaginary baddie was lurking behind me. I took deep breaths and managed to resist, though. My heart rate finally slowed down when I got my door unlocked and took one last look behind me into the hall.

Back inside my apartment, I turned on all my lights and walked with my gun through every room, checking under every bed and in every closet for hidden visitors. Yeah, I knew I wasn't being rational, but damn it, I'd rather be alive and irrationally paranoid than dead with Hoyt's scalpels sticking out of me again.

I sat on my couch with a cup of hot coffee, trying to warm up on the inside, and waited for the morning. There was no way I was going back to sleep.

. . . . . . .

The next morning, I was at work, guzzling down more coffee and trying to keep my eyes open. I was filling out some paperwork, some DD5s that had been sitting around for forever, and I found myself wondering how Maura's presentation was going. My phone rang just then, and wouldn't you know it . . . someone got killed. I looked over at Frost who was mirroring my actions, and had just hung up his phone. He raised his eyebrows and took a deep breath. I guess he was used to my haggard appearance by now and hadn't said anything about it. He was a nice guy.

"Ready for another one?"

I finished off my coffee and stood up, throwing my jacket around my shoulders.

"Born ready, Frost."

We pulled up to the park and got out of the sedan. When I saw that punctual Maura already had her Mercedes parked by the curb in front of us, I looked quickly in the mirror and tried to pinch some color into my cheeks, and I patted unsuccessfully at the skin under my eyes, hoping to make the dark circles disappear. Maura would see them right away. I sighed and caught up with Frost, who shot me a raised-eyebrow, questioning look.

I ignored him, however, as we both gave our names to the officer holding the clipboard and ducked under the police tape and over to where Maura was bent over a park bench, examining the dead man seated there.

She looked impeccable, as usual, in her light blue dress and beige, three quarter sleeved blazer. If I wasn't so damned tired and wary to have her see me in the state I was in, I would've thought seriously about taking her into my arms right then and there and kissing her thoroughly. But that wouldn't have been appropriate even on a normal day.

"What do we have, Doc?" Frost said, as we approached. Maura looked up briefly, taking in the sight of the two detectives before glancing back down at her notes. "Male, late 20s, early 30s. His throat was slashed, severed the carotid and jugular, and it looks as if he's been placed here."

Indeed, the man had a newspaper in his hands, no blood at all on his body, and it was obvious that he had been killed somewhere else.

"His body temp is low. And this slash across his throat is odd."

"Odd?" I said incredulously. "Yeah the whole thing is odd! There's no blood anywhere and he's sitting here with a newspaper like it's no big deal."

Maura glanced over at me.

"The darkening of the naso-jugal fold indicates fatigue and vitamin deficiencies."

She was speaking over my head again, so I just nodded and stared at the dead guy.

But Maura was still looking at me, I could feel her eyes on me. So I looked back over at her and raised my eyebrows, silently saying _What?_

"I'm talking about you, Jane. You have dark circles under your eyes."

I groaned. That didn't take her long at all. Maybe I should invest in some eye cream or makeup or something.

"You didn't sleep last night, did you?" she asked, straightening up and facing me. I didn't answer her. Luckily for me, Frost walked up and held out a wallet.

I took it from him and opened it up. The ID said James Stearn, and that sounded familiar to me. Frost frowned and decided that it sounded familiar to him as well. He said he thought the guy might be a missing person, and with that he walked off to go run it.

When he left, Maura leaned in closer and spoke quietly. "You had a nightmare again." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, I dreamed I came to work in my underwear."

"Really? I have this reoccurring dream where I show up to my biochemistry final and I haven't studied at all . . . "

"Stop, it's terrifying. I can't take it."

I rolled my eyes at her, trying to deflect the conversation and the fact that she had so quickly discovered my dilemma. But here was Frost again to save the day.

He walked back up with his tablet, on which he was scrolling around and nodding his head. "Yeah, his wife was a missing person, her name was Emily. James and Emily Stearns..

"Yeah," I said, "I remember that. There was a history of violence and he was the number one suspect."

"Yeah, theory was he murdered her, hid the body and fled." Frost recited, mulling thoughtfully over his screen.

I said, "Looks like karma finally caught up with him."

It was just a fleeting comment. I wasn't looking for an explanation of the word. But guess who gave me one?

Yep. You guessed it.

Maura started talking about Sanskrit or something googly and then I tuned her out. I'm a good girlfriend.

I heard footsteps approaching behind me and I whipped around. It was Frankie, and the look on his face was not a promising one.

_Well, shit. Another body?_ I wondered.

"What's up Frankie?" I asked him, worried about what the look on his face and his body language could be about. Weird how siblings can read each other like that. He didn't hesitate. He meant business.

"It's about Ma and Pop. Can we go somewhere and talk about it?" He was worrying his lip and glancing around like he didn't want people to hear.

I looked over at Maura, who had heard the conversation but was politely and dutifully glancing over the body one last time, making imaginary notes on her clipboard. She glanced up at me when she felt my eyes on her and nodded, silently giving me permission to leave. I figured we'd meet back up at the morgue so that I could be there for the autopsy. Patting Frost on the shoulder as I walked past him, I told him I'd meet him back at the station. He nodded and continued searching for information on the missing wife of our dead husband.

I relaxed a little bit as we sat down together at a booth. It was just a little Rizzoli family drama. What was new? The little diner was down the block from the police station. We weren't sitting for more than about 20 seconds when one of the waitresses came bustling up, notepad out, ready to take our order. She was a good-looking girl, maybe late 20s or so, and she was all grins as she asked what we'd like to drink. We both got coffee and as she finished writing it down, the lingering look she gave Frankie didn't pass me by. She left to grab our drinks and Frankie looked nervous.

"What's the matter?" I asked, worried more about him than I was about our parents. If something was seriously wrong, we wouldn't be sitting here talking and drinking coffee.

He paused dramatically before he began.

"I think Ma is saving up to leave Pop."

That wasn't what I was expecting to hear. But, come on! Really?

"Really, Frankie? Because she's selling that miracle joint juice?"

He leaned forward and nodded, trying to persuade me.

"And she got her hair highlighted."

"That doesn't mean anything. She's a grown woman and she has every right to lead her own life."

He raised an eyebrow at me, frustrated with me that I wasn't seeing things his way.

"Without Pop?"

I laughed, still not believing that things were as bad as he thought. The waitress brought our coffees and set them down, smiling at the both of us. She left again and I put my elbows up on the table, wrapping my hands around the warm mug.

"Yeah, I guess so. Look, Frankie, I know things have been sort of rocky between them lately, but they're adults. They'll work it out. And we're adults too now, so it's really not our job to worry about them."

He didn't look convinced. "But I am worried, Jane. I just have this feeling that . . . "

But I cut him off. "No, Frankie. It will be fine. They love each other."

Sighing, he slumped back against his seat. He looked defeated, and I understood. I didn't know what I'd do if they really got divorced. I shook myself. _Come on now. We're adults, we can handle ourselves if something like that were to really happen._

But we were both frustrated, it seemed. I was frustrated with both the developing case and Frankie's suspicions about our parents. And poor Frankie. He would be really torn up if they did get a divorce or if they separated. I couldn't help but think of him as my little brother, as the little kid who looked up to me and followed me around everywhere, copying my every move. Annoying as it was back then, I looked back on it now sort of fondly and laugh about it. I frowned briefly at the fact that I hadn't gotten around to telling him about my relationship with Maura. I hadn't told anyone really, and only Frost had figured it out. It wasn't that I was ashamed or afraid. . . Well, I take that back. I was afraid, and I didn't have any idea how to go about coming out to my family. I was actually surprised my mother hadn't caught on yet. But then again, I had been so busy that I hadn't seen much of either of them in the past few weeks.

The googly-eyed waitress came back and gazed at Frankie.

"Can I get you two anything else?"

I sighed and smiled up at her. "Several things. A new job for starters. A million bucks?"

She laughed as she picked up our mugs one at a time and refilled them. "And how about you," she said to Frankie. "I bet you'd like a new car?"

They looked into each other's eyes for a moment before he answered. Then they started talking about cars and Detroit and plumbers and I zoned out. I had more pressing things on my mind than listening to these too shamelessly flirt in front of me.

She shrugged at something he said and he held his hand out. "I'm Frankie," he said as she extended her own and shook lightly. Her handshake was weak, I noticed. I didn't like that in a woman. "And this is my sister, Jane."

She glanced over at me briefly. "I'm Lola."

"It's nice to meet you, Lola." God, this staring was getting way out of hand. I rolled my eyes and was grateful for the buzzing of my cell phone on the table. It yanked Frankie from his staring contest with the waitress as he listened to my conversation.

It was Maura. "Hey, what's up?" I asked as the waitress slipped Frankie her number, trying to be sneaky. _Like I don't see you. I'm a detective for crying out loud. _

"Jane, Frost and I have some news."

"Some news? Okay," I paused, unsure of where she was going with this. "What kind of news?"

She hesitated, thinking about her words, choosing them carefully. "It's about James Stearn. Would you come down here and we can talk about it."

This didn't sound good. In fact, it sounded down right ominous. What was so bad that she couldn't just tell me over the phone? That I had to be there in person and see her face to face. My gut started clenching and unclenching then, and the coffee wasn't settling well. I didn't have a good feeling now. _Shit._

"Okay, I'll be right there."

I pressed END on my phone and looked back up at Frankie, who was grinning to himself like an idiot. Jeez, it really didn't take much for guys to be distracted, did it? One second he was upset like a 10-year-old and the next he's smirking to himself about the digits he managed to get from some chick.

"I gotta go, Frankie. We'll talk more about this later, okay?"

He looked up at me, surprised I guess that I was still sitting there and nodded his head. He was in his own little world. Men. Ugh.

"Okay, see you later."

I hustled down the block and into the police station. The elevator took forever and I stood there impatiently, tapping my foot, staring anxiously at the little round lights that told you what floor the car was on. I guess I could've taken the stairs, but that was too much work. Besides, my stomach was all twisted in knots after Maura's phone call. That tone was not a good one and I wasn't looking forward to whatever was awaiting me downstairs.

Finally the bell dinged and the door slid open. I rode the elevator down and walked quickly past the morgue and into Maura's office, where Frost was standing a little behind Maura, his hand resting on the back of the chair. She was sitting at her desk, head down, and they were both looking over a spread of photographs and other assorted papers.

They looked up together as I entered, and Maura's eyes were wide with what looked like worry. Frost's expression was cool and collected, but I knew him well enough already. He always twitched his mouth a little to the right side when he was freaking out about something. My guess was that he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. It was his tell, and although I hadn't told him about it, his poker face wasn't as good as he thought it was. He was doing it right as I entered, so I knew that whatever they were about to tell me wasn't good.

"Okay, what's the emergency?" I asked, trying to be calm.

Maura looked up at Frost, unsure of what to say, and he looked back at her with a slight inclination of his head, indicating to her that it was her job to tell me whatever it was. I guess he was right, since the two of us were seeing each other and everything. Maura didn't look as convinced, however. She had a point; after all, he was my partner and was in charge of watching my back and helping to keep me safe. She caved soon enough, though as I gave up on the two of them and walked over to her desk to see what all the fuss what about for myself.

She started talking as I laid my eyes on what was spread all over her desk.

"I was in the middle of autopsy when I noticed something strange about his heart. It was frozen solid, and part of his lung was partially frozen as well. It turns out our dead body from the park was frozen for an extended period of time. I'm unsure of the exact time, and it will be difficult to determine what it is."

I was glancing over the autopsy and crime scene photos of James Stearn, rifling through them when I came across one close up of his wrists. They were red and chafed, and I could see a deeper but vague bruising beneath all the inflammation.

"What's this?" I asked, taking in as much as I could without jumping to my own conclusions. _Don't let this be what I think it is. _

"His wrists were bound with duct tape," Maura said, her voice quiet.

"Was his mouth taped too?" I asked, just as I uncovered the photograph of his face, which answered the questions for me. It was also red in the shape of a strip of tape around his mouth. Like someone had ripped it off his face just before or right after he died.

I glanced up at Frost, who just stared at me, his eyes sympathetic. I held eye contact with him as I spoke again. "And the murder weapon?" I didn't really want to hear the answer.

"A scalpel," Maura said. I could feel her eyes on me, and I looked down at her briefly before I had to look away again. Tears started to well up behind my eyes and I needed more than anything to keep them from coming out. Weakness was the last thing I needed right then.

"But how is this possible?" I asked, hiding the emotion in my voice as I continued to look through the pictures. "Hoyt's been in prison this entire time. Does this mean he has another accomplice?"

For the first time, Frost spoke. His tone spoke volumes about his concern for me.

"It has to be. There's no way this is anyone else. None of this information was made public so there would be no copycats, so it has to be someone he's trained."

"Someone froze this body for two years, thawed him enough to get him dressed, and then posed him at the park," Maura went on.

I shook my head as I walked over and sat down on one of her incredibly uncomfortable chairs. My hands started throbbing, and I rubbed them methodically, the pain making me sick to my stomach.

"Its Hoyt," I said, my voice cracking. "If James Stearn and his wife have been missing two years, then Hoyt had to have killed them, I dunno, six months before he came after me. The second time, that is. And then somebody stored the body for him and dumped it right in front of our faces."

"Jane," Maura said, as she rose from her chair and walked around the desk. She knelt down in front of me (which was no easy task in her form fitting dress and heels) and took both of my hands in her own. My eyes darted over to Frost, who met my gaze and held it steadily. I could see that he wanted to let me know it was okay to let Maura hold my hands in front of him.

"I haven't had the opportunity yet to be completely certain that Hoyt is behind this."

She was trying to make me feel better. Sweet of her. But it wasn't working. I knew it was him. He was still haunting me, even from behind bars. I let go of Maura and put my head in my hands, rubbed my eyes and then my temples, trying to make the dull ache disappear.

"Maura, it's him."

Her eyes told me that yes, she thought so too. But she didn't say anything. She just grabbed my hands gently again and looked at me.

"So what do you want to do?" Frost asked from across the room.

"I want to fucking find whoever this is and put a bullet in their head, just like I should have done with Hoyt."

Maura's eyes went wide at this, and I could see that she was close to chastising me for my language. She held back, though and Frost let out a grim smile, glad to see that I hadn't lost my edge because some lunatic was after me again.

"I'm talking about tonight, Jane," Frost said. "I'm going to have a protective detail on you, and I need to know where to tell them you'll be staying."

Ah. He didn't want to straight up ask if I'd be sleeping at Maura's place or my own. He was probably wondering why I hadn't U-Hauled over to Beacon Hill already.

I looked over at Maura. She kept her expression neutral, letting me make the decision for myself. Where did I feel the safest?

Honestly, it didn't matter where I stayed, as I long as I was near Maura and my nightmares stayed away, I didn't care. But for tonight, I wanted to be surrounded by my most familiar settings, just in case something happened. I wanted to know exactly where to reach for my gun in the middle of the night.

"I want to stay at my apartment tonight," I said firmly, squeezing Maura's hands. My eyes pleaded with her and I asked quietly, "You'll stay with me?"

"Of course I will, Jane," she didn't hesitate. I needed her tonight more than ever and she knew it.

. . . . . . . . . . .

At my apartment later, I was alone, waiting for Maura to get to my apartment after she finished up at the station and I was so hungry I could barely see straight. It was the weirdest thing. I never knew how my body was going to react to stressful situations because it was always a tossup between no hunger whatsoever and basically feeling like I was starving to death every second of the day. This time just happened to be starvation.

I was rummaging around in the kitchen for something to eat. There was no food. Hell, there wasn't even any coffee. _Shit!_ I should have just stayed over at Maura's. At least she usually had a well-stocked pantry and refrigerator. I doubted that I even had any canned goods. Looking in the cupboards, I saw right away that I was correct. Indeed, I was fresh out of everything.

_Shit!_

And then I got frustrated. Mad, even. I started slamming drawers and flinging cupboards open and closed. I threw open the freezer door and when I saw that there was nothing except for a bag of peas god knows how old, I slammed that shut too. The noise, I'm sure, was horrendous. Did I care if I was waking up my neighbors in the middle of the night? Hell no.

And just then, I heard the key turning in the lock, so I whipped around to position myself on the wall out of sight of the door. My hand was on my gun, ready to draw and shoot if the need arose.

A meticulously manicured hand poked its way through the gap in between the door and the frame and waved a large handled brown paper sack back and forth.

"Jane, it's just me. You probably have your gun out, but I have food so there's no need to shoot."

_Maura_.

Thank God. I wasn't ready for another firefight so soon. She shut the door with her foot and I hurried over to help carry the groceries after I locked and dead-bolted the door behind her.

We got the bags all situated on the counter, and as soon as my hands were free I grabbed her and wrapped her up in my arms. I needed to be held, to feel safe. She was usually shorter than me, but just then I wasn't wearing any shoes and she still had on her heels. So for once, I was able to bury my head in the crook of her shoulder and neck. I breathed in her smell, which thankfully and mysteriously never smelled like formaldehyde. Instead, it was an alive smell, it was citrusy and magical. She stayed there like that with me for a full minute or so, and finally I pulled away, looking into her eyes.

God, she was beautiful. Everything about her was so perfect. I was lost as usual in her green eyes. The concern she had for me was written all over her face.

"You hungry?"

"Starving," I said dramatically as I seated myself on a barstool. "You saved my life, just now. I was wasting away."

She pursed her lips at me as she unloaded the food. Simple spaghetti and meatballs from my favorite Italian place. Perfect. And oh God, she remembered the garlic bread. I loved her so much I could have passed out just then. She sat down next to me at my bar and opened her own container of chicken parmesan and cut it to pieces daintily with her fork. I knew nothing of manners at that point, and the spaghetti was all over my face by the time I mopped up the last of it with the garlic bread.

Maura glanced over at me and chuckled. She picked up her napkin and tried to wipe my face with it. That was very Ma-like, and I didn't like it. I bobbed and weaved like a toddler, avoiding her hand. She was quick, though, and she grabbed the back of my neck and held me still. She had my attention then, and as she leaned in, I didn't, I couldn't, resist her. I welcomed her soft lips on my own, and didn't even mind that while she had me distracted with her mouth, her hands were busy wiping the sauce off my face. She won again. Ah well.

It didn't take long before the day's troubles came rushing back into my mind, despite the brief absence of any worries Maura and I had just experienced. The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach returned as I thought about Hoyt terrorizing me all over again.

I didn't want to ruin the moment, but I needed to tell her what happened the previous night, I needed to get what went on off my chest. I told her that I wasn't planning on telling anyone because I thought someone was just messing with me, and she stared at me as I stood up and walked over to my side table. I bent down and pulled open the drawer.

I held the plastic bag out to her that contained the flare.

"This was left in front of my building last night."

Her eyes were wide as she took the plastic bag and turned it over slowly in her hands as she studied it. She took a while to speak but when she did, she said she wanted to let Frost know about this right away.

"No," I said firmly. I had already thought about this. But maybe I should have waited until the morning to tell her. Oh well. Too late for that.

"Jane, wouldn't you feel safer if Frost was here for tonight? Don't you think you need an extra protective detail? Maybe somebody extra in the house?"

I shook my head. "No. I know that patrol is out there watching everything. Makes me feel safer knowing that someone can't just waltz up to my doorstep and drop off a damn flare whenever they feel like it."

She smiled at me, but didn't look completely convinced.

"I also have a gun, Maura." I reassured her slowly. "Luckily, I've been trained for situations like these."

After she rolled her eyes, she stood and walked over to me, wrapping her arms around me and pressing her body to mine.

"But Jane, what happens if I'm the only one in here left to protect you? What if something happens to you and I need to use your gun to save your life?"

I stared at her.

"Well, I guess you'd get hold of my gun and defend yourself if you had to."

"Let me practice," she said, her expression completely serious.

"This is not a shooting range. This is my living room."

She stepped back and held out her hand expectantly. What did she want me to do? Set up a target across the living room and let her fire at will?

"You want my gun?" I asked her incredulously.

"Yes. I want to practice."

"It's loaded, though."

This argument didn't seem to matter. Her eyes were big and bright and I can never resist her. She could get anything she wanted from me. And she stubbornly continued to hold her hand out for my gun. And then she started reeling off all sorts of facts about my gun. The weight and specs about the sights and all kinds of stuff that I didn't even know. So I reached down and unsnapped the buckle that secured my weapon. I pulled it out and looked at it for a brief moment. Did I really want to let this woman hold my gun?

I figured that if it wasn't loaded, it wasn't a big deal. So I pushed down on the release and freed the magazine, placing it swiftly in my pocket. I pulled back on the slide and made sure there was nothing in the chamber.

"Have you ever shot one of these?" I asked her pointedly as I handed it to her. She couldn't lie.

She looked nervously down at the gun in her hands and tested its weight; she seemed intimidated by the feel of it. "Ummm.." she said quietly.

I stared at her.

"Really?" I asked, surprised and not surprised at the same time. Who knew? She could have been a world champion skeet shooter for all I knew, she was after all, so good at many things. And now she held my gun in her hands and wanted to learn, now of all times, how to use it.

"Really," she said with a smile, and added earnestly, "but I'm a fast learner. "

And I knew she just wanted to help, she wanted to feel secure in the fact that she might be able to protect me if the need arose. I hoped for both of our sakes that a day like that never came. So I stood there next to her while she held the gun out in front of her body, aiming at my television of all places. And damn it to hell if I didn't forget immediately about my TV and realize that she looked incredibly sexy. Those forearms and hands flexing and tensing against the metal of the gun made my mouth water. She looked good. And I told her so.

She turned and smiled at me as I moved closer to her and adjusted her arms just a bit.

"Push and pull equally," I said, my voice husky, and I let my fingers trail lightly across her corded muscles. She shivered in response to my touch. And suddenly, the fact that I hadn't slept properly in what was about to be 24 hours didn't seem to matter anymore. I was wide awake and acutely aware of her presence next to me.

Maura lowered the gun and turned to me. Her eyes were burning with an intensity that I had been yearning for all day long. I longed to touch her, to wrap my arms around her, to kiss her at every opportunity. And here she was, right in front of me, sending strong signals my way that she wanted me to take her straight to bed.

"I think Frost and the patrol car outside have everything covered tonight," she said quietly, and I could feel her warm breath on my face. I could almost taste her.

I reached out and took my gun from her, never breaking eye contact with her as I took the magazine back out of my pocket and put it back inside the gun, releasing the slide to its original position. I hurried over to the wall and switched the light off. She glanced around, making sure that everything was locked and safe before she scooped up her overnight bag, grabbed my free hand and led me to my bedroom. I loved it when she took charge.

She tossed her bag on the bed and turned to me, running her hands up my sides and to my shoulders. She let one migrate up to my neck, gently massaging the tense muscles there with her thumb and forefinger. The other moved to my lower back, pulling me in as she closed her mouth around mine. The kiss was heated, full of wanting and need, and I never wanted it to end.

"Jane," she murmured against my lips as she pulled slightly away.

"Yes?" I husked back, looking into her eyes.

"I want something from you tonight." She hesitated, unsure of my reaction. "I want to try something new. I think it will take your mind off of everything, and I really think you're going to enjoy it."

My mind went blank and I couldn't imagine what in the world she had in mind, but you know me . . I wasn't about to say no to this woman.

"You think so?" I asked as I leaned towards her, my lips traveling to her neck, leaving light kisses there as lips moved against her skin. "What do you have in mind?"

She smiled at me and turned away, leaving me to miss the contact with her body. I couldn't see what she was pulling out of the bag but when she turned back around she had it in her hands. I looked down and was momentarily surprised and at a loss for words. A strap-on. Wow. It was a pretty good sized one too, and seeing as how she was the one who picked it out, I guessed that it was exactly what she wanted.

She confused my hesitation and surprise with indecision and her brow furrowed. "If you're not ready for something like this, we can wait. Or we don't have to do it at all. I was just thinking . . "

She was rambling, so I pressed my finger against her soft lips and she fell quiet. "Shh, Maura. This is what you want?"

I nodded down at the dildo between us and looked back up into her eyes. She nodded, and looked like she wanted to say something else but I shook my head slightly, stopping her.

"Maura, you're standing here with a strap-on in your hands, telling me straight up that you want me to fuck you with it, and you're thinking that I . . what? Don't want to? That I'm not ready for it?"

She shrugged, she didn't know what to think, I guess. I didn't blame her. I'd had one hell of a day. And so had she.

"I want this, Maura," I said firmly. "I want you. It doesn't matter to me how I have you, how we make love. If you wanted to go to bed and just curl up in my arms, I would want that too."

Smiling at me, she pulled me in close and kissed me again, the dildo pressing into both of our stomachs, a firm reminder of what we were about to do. I pulled back and took the strap on from her.

"I'm gonna go put this on and get ready for bed. You get ready too. Be in bed waiting for me, okay?"

Grinning madly, she turned away from me, rummaging around in one of my drawers for another of my t-shirts. I rolled my eyes and closed the bathroom door behind me.

A few minutes later, I emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of briefs and a t-shirt. My hair was down and a little wild, but that was normal. She was sitting on the bed with her back up against the headboard wearing only her panties and my t-shirt, waiting for me patiently. Her makeup was gone and she looked incredible. She always looked incredible.

I walked towards the bed and her eyes gravitated immediately to my crotch, where the briefs were barely containing the bulge concealed underneath. I was a little self-conscious. It felt very strange to have something like that in between my legs. But she didn't seem to care at all; her lips parted slightly and her eyes roved back up my body to my face. They were burning with lust. I could see that from 10 feet away from her.

She sat up on her knees, and leaned forward suddenly, grabbing the collar of my shirt firmly and dragging me onto the bed so that I was also on my knees and facing her. My sex clenched in response. I told you I liked it when she took charge.

She didn't kiss me right away. Instead, she moved her mouth to my throat, not touching it yet but letting her hot breath wash over me. She ran her hands down my shoulders to my arms, finally reaching my hands and intertwining our fingers. She pulled my hands behind her back and released them, leaving me to explore the skin beneath her (my) shirt there, while her mouth moved along my jawline down to my neck. God, it felt good. Her tongue and lips were doing sinful things to me and I was throbbing now with need. I squirmed in my briefs, trying unsuccessfully to get some relief from the base of the dildo. But she wasn't going to make this easy for me. She leaned down further and closed her mouth around one of my breasts.

My shirt was still on, and the friction she was causing left me almost panting with desire. I dug my nails into her shoulders, letting her know that I was ready. But she wasn't finished with me; she moved to my other nipple and gave it the same treatment over my shirt. I now had wet spots on my t-shirt from her mouth and tongue. Without warning, though, she reached down grabbed hold of my t-shirt hem and pulled it up quickly. I raised my arms obediently and she tugged it over my head, throwing it to the floor. I was ready for her lips to be on my skin, and she obliged, closing her mouth on my nipple and laving it with her tongue.

The briefs were soaked through now, and my moan cut through the silence in the bedroom, joined only by the sounds of Maura's mouth on me. I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck, tangling it in her hair, pulling her impossibly closer. Her tongue was making circles now, and I was dizzy with the pleasure she was giving me.

Reaching down, she trailed her hand down from my ribs, over my clenching ab muscles, down further and deliciously lower until she reached my briefs. She didn't hesitate. She grabbed the dildo firmly and ran her hand along it, feeling its girth and bulge against the cotton. I thrust myself further into her hand and her teeth closed gently down on me in response. I cried out into the darkness as pleasure mixed with the slightest hint of pain. I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted her right then and there.

I mirrored her earlier actions and grabbed the hem of her t-shirt, pulling it swiftly over her head and tossing it aside. No bra. God, she was perfect.

Her breasts were unabashedly beautiful, and I didn't waste any time. I gently pushed her backwards until she was on her back and staring at me intently from the pillows. I crawled my way up her body and pressed my lower half onto hers. She groaned and thrust her hips to meet me.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked, a little unsure of how she wanted to go about this. I was positive that she had been thinking about this for a while, and surely she had something in particular in mind.

She had a hard time focusing on my words and coming up with an answer. Her hands were busy running lightly up and down my back, causing little goosebumps to erupt in a path behind her fingertips.

"Make me come," she managed to say, her voice throaty and hoarse. "And then I want you to fuck me."

My clit throbbed in response to this, and I set out to give her what she wanted. I sat back a little on my knees and ran my hands slowly down her body, stopping when I got to the waistband of her undoubtedly expensive underwear. I hooked my fingers in the sides and pulled them slowly down her legs, bringing my lips to the skin that I was exposing inch by inch. I kissed my way down, further still until I was in front of her lower lips. I kissed around the outsides of her lips and inward to her inner thighs, loving both sides equally. Her hips seemed to move of their own accord as they thrust upwards towards me. I opened my mouth and met her center, flattening my tongue and running it down to her opening. She was so wet.

I had her juices all over my chin and lips then and I could feel her hands wrapping themselves up in my hair, pulling my head this way and that, depending on where she wanted pressure to be applied.

"Please, Jane." She said from somewhere above me, her voice desperate for release. I was becoming desperate myself. The way she was thrusting against my mouth was driving me crazy, and I wanted nothing more than to bring her all the way over the edge.

I obliged and closed my mouth around her clit, increasing the pressure and slowly grazing my tongue back and forth just to the side of it. She ground against me in time with my movements, and her hands gripped even tighter in my hair. Her legs wrapped themselves onto my back, bringing us even closer together.

"Oh my . . . " she cried out as her movements suddenly grew more sporadic. She was close, and all I had to do was keep her right where she was, maybe take her a little further, and her body would take care of the rest.

I increased the pressure my tongue was putting on her, and I picked up the speed just a little bit, moving my tongue now directly on to the tip of her clit. She pressed hard against me in response and moved maybe three or four more times in the same way before she froze. Her toes curled against my back, I could feel her inner thigh muscles clench around my head, and her hands just about tore my hair out as she held on to me.

"Jane," she breathed out.

She came hard, and her breathing was erratic as she rode out her orgasm. I kept my tongue directly on her clit, moving it back and forth slowly but deliberately to extend what she was feeling and as she came down from her high, she pushed me gently away, unable to bear the sensitivity.

I thought maybe she would want to rest for a few minutes after something as intense as that, but I was wrong.

She suddenly sat up, reaching down with both hands and tugged my briefs down, releasing the dildo and exposing my dripping center to the cool air of the bedroom.

"Now fuck me, Jane."

First of all, let me just remind you of how erotic it is to hear Maura Isles talk dirty. Secondly, the look in her eyes and the fact that I had just given her mind-blowing pleasure told me that she was always up for more action. Well, now I know.

I shimmied the underwear the rest of the way off my legs and positioned myself in front of her. She was laying back against the pillows, staring at me expectantly. As if she thought I knew what the hell I was doing with this thing. _Ah well, how hard can it be?_ I thought to myself. I grasped the base of the dildo with one hand and reached down to run my hand along Maura's sex, which was unbelievably wet and ready. I wet one of my fingers and pushed it slowly inside her, curling it towards me and stopping only when I had buried it as far as it would go. Looking into her face, her eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth opened up.

Okay, time to do the damn thing. I took my finger out and ran it along the shaft, making sure it was good and wet. I positioned the head in front of her opening and pushed slowly. The head disappeared and I almost came right then because that had to have been the most incredibly erotic thing I'd ever seen. I was thrusting a cock into Maura Isles at the moment. Yep. Me.

I pushed further still, and let her slowly adjust. It didn't take her long, and she was raising her hips within a couple of seconds to accommodate more of itinside her. I buried it to the hilt and held it there. Her eyes were still closed, so I figured I was doing it right. I pulled it back out, keeping only the head inside and then thrust it back in slowly. Her hands were on my triceps now, feeling them flex and relax as I held myself up over her.

"Harder," she whispered.

I didn't want to disappoint, so I found a rhythm, moving my hips back and forth as I pushed it inside of her over and over. I thrust in all the way and pulled back out, leaving only the head, and then pushed it back in again. She was moving with me now, meeting me stroke for stroke. At that point, I began to wonder how males held themselves up for so long. God this was tiring. I adjusted my position, moving my knees further up under myself so that my arms could take a little break, and Maura seemed to sense my discomfort.

She opened her eyes and frowned at me, but she didn't say anything. Besides her Google mouth, Maura is one of those lead-by-example types. She wrapped her left leg up on my right hip and reached up with her right arm to wrap her hand around my neck. Pulling and pushing alternatively, she surprised the hell out of me as she quickly rolled us both over and was now on top, dildo still buried inside her as she adjusted her legs to sit astride me. And if I thought seeing the dildo going in and out was erotic before, it was nothing compared to the way she looked on top of me, breasts on full display, hands on my stomach for support. She bit her lip as it went even deeper inside her and she was now able to control the depth and the rhythm. She leaned forward and kissed me, her mouth open and wanting. I thrust my tongue into her mouth and dueled with hers for control as my hips rose up from the bed to push further into her. She began to thrust her own hips, grinding her clit onto my pubic bone as she rode me. The strap on was shifting back and forth, putting glorious pressure via the harness on my clit, and I was so turned on that I didn't know how much longer I'd last.

Moaning into my mouth, she had to push herself away to sit back up and catch her breath. Her hands wandered around on the bed until they found my own. She grabbed them and brought them slowly to her breasts, and I watched, transfixed, as she positioned my fingers on her nipples and squeezed, showing me exactly what she wanted. Her hands left mine alone and moved back down to my stomach as her thrusts became more purpose-driven, and I began to push up into her as I squeezed and tweaked her nipples. Her moans got louder and louder and my muscles coiled tighter and tighter as I hurtled closer and closer to my orgasm.

I thrust once more into her, raising my hips completely off the bed and almost fell to pieces as my orgasm washed over me. I cried out, closing my eyes tightly and sitting up, pushing Maura back a little as her position changed. I wrapped my arms around Maura's back and closed my mouth around one of her breasts, flicking the nipple in much the same way as I had done her clit earlier. She threw her head back and held me tightly to her, continuing to grind against me as followed me over the edge. I felt every muscle in her body tighten for a second or two before she relaxed and let the waves of pleasure wash over every nerve in her body.

Once she was recovered, she moved one leg off of me and slowly lifted herself off the dildo, wincing slightly at the loss of contact. She reached down and undid the straps, helping me to lift my hips as she took it off and tossed it on the floor. Leaning down to kiss me once more, the smile on her tired face was radiant.

"I love you. So much," she said to me as her lips gently pressed against mine.

I kissed her back and squeezed her as she turned in my arms, cuddling her back against my front as the two of us settled down to sleep for the night.

"I love you too, Maur." I said, barely able to keep my eyes open. "Goodnight."

_No nightmares for me tonight._

**A/N – Hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think so far. Thanks for reading! **


	5. Chapter 5

A/N - okay let's try this again. I don't know what happened last time but here's the chapter how it's _supposed_ to look. Sorry.

Last Year 5

A bright light blinded me as I bravely opened one eye, I could already feel the heat from the early morning sun radiating though my window. I tried to roll over, stretching my lower back and calves as I squeezed my eyes shut again.

"Ow! Shit!" I tried to keep my vice low, not wanting to wake Maura up, but for god's sakes, my muscles were hurting. I grinned into my pillow as memories of the previous night ran through my mind. She had really put me through a workout, what with the strap on and all the acrobatics. I turned fully over, intending to watch Maura sleep, or, let's be honest, stare lustfully at her until she woke up. Or maybe I would wake her up myself, I could be pretty creative.

But my sleep-filled eyes fell on her pillow and I glanced around the room, confused. Where had she gone? I decided she must be up already, as I lifted my head again to look at the clock on my bedside table. 8:20.

Shit!

I was late for work. But as I scrambled out of bed, searching around for something to wear, everything that happened the previous day hit me. Finding the body, Stearns' body, in the park, listening to Frankie worry about my parents possibly getting a divorce, listening as Maura broke the news that Hoyt apparently had another apprentice, seeing as how Stearns was killed in the same manner as Hoy's previous victims.

Hoyt.

I was so wrapped up in the security and calm that Maura instilled in me anytime she came near me that I had managed to forget all about Hoyt. It was incredible what she could do. The bastard still scared the shit out of me, and probably would haunt me as long as I lived, or as long as he lived and kept training apprentices.

A noise from the living room got my attention, my head turned abruptly, wondering what Maura was up to out there. But then I heard other voices, male voices, and I wondered who the hell was out there. And why were they making so much noise? The voices were raised, close to yelling, and I could decipher two of the voices as Frost's and Korsak's. As I pulled on my boots, I heard Maura join in. She was angry.

I opened my bedroom door and stepped out in the living room. Korsak was in Frost's face, his face red with anger written all over it. Frost didn't look happy either, and Maura was just pushing them apart, telling them to calm down and to shut up. They all turned their heads abruptly, almost comically, towards me as I entered the room, and it was obvious by the looks on their faces that it was me they were arguing about.

"Good morning to all of you, too." I growled sarcastically, rubbing my eyes and walking over to sit on a barstool. Maura backed away from the two detectives and came over to stand next to me. Her hand found its way to my upper back and scratched lightly in soothing circles.

"How did you sleep, Jane?" she asked, looking down at me. My eyes met hers and for a moment, she took me away from all of my fears and misery. But only for a moment. I still had Hoyt to deal with.

"Eh," was all I would say about that. Truth was, with what little sleep I had managed the night before, I slept like a baby. "What are you idiots screaming about first thing in the morning at my apartment?"

They glanced at each other, ignoring my grating attempt at humor, and I could see that they didn't want to tell me what it was.

"Hello? I'm a grown woman. A detective for fuck's sake! Tell me."

"It's nothing," Korsak started, and Frost cut him off. "We were just worried about you."

"No one told me about Hoyt resurfacing and I guess I took it out on Frost here."

I looked between the two of them and shook my head. I had to hand it to Korsak though, he was loyal 'til the end. His jealousy of Frost was all over his body language. He looked at me with those puppy dog eyes, with pity, and I could see that he wanted so badly to help me, to save me from Hoyt but he didn't know how. That exact look was the reason I couldn't be his partner anymore, I just couldn't handle it. Frost was my partner now, and the less he knew about what happened to me, the better. I didn't need his pity as well. What I needed at that moment, was to find this new apprentice and do something about it.

"All right, whatever. Children, it's time to go to work," I said, standing up and looking around for the things I needed.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Jane? You can take a day off or so, you know, clear your head?"

"Shut the hell up, Frost," I glared at him, and then elbowed him playfully to let him know I didn't hate him. Yet.

"The only way I'll be able to clear my head is by stopping Hoyt and his apprentices and ending it for good. If you think I'm gonna sit here and relax while one of Hoyt's minions is on the loose, you're crazy."

Frost opened his mouth then rapidly shut it again, not wanting to anger me any more than he already had.

…..

At the station, I leaned against the back table in the morgue, absentmindedly playing with a pair of latex gloves. The door swung open and Maura stepped inside, handing me a folder with a grim look. That didn't look good.

"Bad news?"

She nodded. "The lab didn't find any prints on the flare."

"Damn it," I said, to no one in particular. I just really wanted to be through with this shit. A print would have been perfect. I glanced up at Maura. She was standing over Stearns' body, lost in thought.

"Hey Jane," Frost said from the half open door. "Cavanaugh wants to see you."

"Uh oh," I muttered with an ironic smile and squeezed Maura's arm as I left.

In his office, he gestured to the chair across from his desk and I sat, obediently. I gripped the arms of the wooden chair, wanting to be anywhere but there, wanting to be out working, finding my newest tormenter. I think he could see how uncomfortable and anxious I was.

"So what's the update, Rizzoli?"

I took a breath. _I don't want to talk._ "We know that Hoyt probably killed this guy before we caught him, and his wife was there watching." He nodded.

"He's showing how much power he had over these two. That's the ultimate show of control, making one of them watch while he kills the other one."

"Yeah, that is, until he found me." I said, frowning down at my knees. "That's probably why he deviated. He wants to create the most extreme level of fear. And now he thinks he's gotten in my head. He thinks he owns me."

Cavanaugh just looked at me as I spoke. I couldn't read his expression. It was a mix between pity and fear, I thought. For me? Of me? I didn't know. So I went on.

"I wish I had killed the son of a bitch when I had the chance. I hate him. He thinks he's in control of me."

"He is," Cavanaugh said quietly. I bugged my eyes out at him.

"He's not," I said firmly. "We take the control he thinks he has and then we've got him right where we want him. I'm going to go talk to him."

I started to stand up, being finished with this conversation and all, when Cavanaugh raised his hand, effectively halting me. "No, you're not. You're staying right here."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, exasperated. He was wasting my time. I promise I don't have a problem with authority. Just authority who don't know what they hell they're doing.

"You're too close to this, Rizzoli. And you're not the lead investigator on this case, so cool it."

"Come on, Lieutenant. I know Hoyt better than anyone. His psyche, his M.O., everything about him . . ."

But he cut me off. "No. And stop arguing with me."

I couldn't resist. Ever since I was little, I needed to have the last word in an argument. That's what having two brothers does to a person. Plus, I was mad. I stood up, fuming and my chair slid back a few feet.

"I caught him! TWICE!"

"That's the problem, Jane. We're about to go to trial for four cases of 1st degree murder. That son of a bitch killed nine people that we know of. He stabbed your old partner, and he tried to kill you twice already."

"That's exactly why I need to work this!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up. So I looked childish. Who cares.

"Don't interrupt me, Rizzoli. He made you a victim. So, right now, you're not a detective, you're not a cop. Okay?"

_Victim_. I never thought of myself as a victim. Not once. I always thought I was too tough to be victimized. But I guess he was right, in a way. Being impaled with scalpels through both hands and then kidnapped off my own street while looking death straight in the eye twice at the hands of a psychopath probably qualified me several times for victimhood.

I stood up and walked out without another word.

…

I went back to my desk, thoroughly chastised, but certainly not defeated. I wasn't one to give up easily. Korsak and Frost were both sitting at their desks and Maura was leaning up against mine. Gorgeous, gorgeous woman. I couldn't believe how lucky I was to have her.

Both the guys had their heads down, either busy with their work or trying to avoid eye contact with me. I didn't care. I wanted to talk to Maura. Her eyes were glued to me as I sat down in a huff, straightening some things absentmindedly on my desk. I spoke quietly to her.

"I want to talk to him, Maur."

At first, I didn't hear anything from her, so I looked up and she was staring at me, her big green eyes just looking right into mine, it was almost mesmerizing.

"Jane. No."

I laid my hands flat on my desk. "Maura, I have to talk to him. I know you think it's dangerous or whatever, but this is mine. He is mine."

"You know that's not going to happen. Besides, what did Cavanaugh just finish telling you?" I didn't answer her. I didn't want to. "He told you you're off the case, didn't he? I thought so. And that means there's no way you're going to talk to him."

I put my hand on her wrist, needing desperately for her to see it from my perspective. How much I needed to put all this to rest.

"He wants to make me afraid, Maura. Hell, he has. You know that. He wants to paralyze me with fear. Cripple me. And goddammit, I'm not going to let him do it."

Her hand came up to rest on mine, and I was comforted by her touch, albeit a little weary of what our excessive touching might look like to everyone around.

"I know, Jane. I know. Let's see what we can do. I'll talk to Korsak," she said quietly. I stood up. Shook my head.

"I'll talk to him myself."

I walked with purpose over to Korsak's desk, sat down in the chair and scooted it up close.

"So, how's it going?" I asked nonchalantly, absolutely expecting him to turn me away. He didn't disappoint.

"Jane, you know I can't talk to you about the case." I shrugged, eyes big, expression as innocent as I could manage. Word does get around fast here.

"I'm not interested in that. I just want to know hypothetically of course. If someone wanted to speak to a prisoner, a prisoner who has been contacting someone on the outside, someone who's back helping the prisoner continue to commit crimes, what kind of strings would need to be pulled to get said prisoner transferred to someplace where he would be constantly monitored by the agency most interested in him?"

"That was quite a sentence, Jane. You're saying you want me to get Hoyt transferred here?" he asked, his glasses low on his nose, staring at me over them.

"I'm not asking for anything here. I'm speaking hypothetically, inquiring about a completely hypothetical situation. What would need to be done?" As I spoke, I glanced down at the open file on his desk. Korsak saw me looking at it, moved to slide it away from me, but a glint of something caught my eye, something I'd never seen in Hoyt's file before. I reached out and slid the photograph from beneath the papers. It was too late for Korsak to stop me, I had already seen it. It was a picture of me. It was a picture I had forgotten they took of me just outside the basement for evidence, me bruised and beaten, my hands bloody and mangled. The worst part was the expression on my face. The haunted, shocked look in my eyes. I looked terrified. I looked broken. My eyes closed and I tried to stop the flashbacks from popping up into my mind, but they came anyway, unbidden and vivid.

"Jane, I beat myself up every single day over what happened that day," Korsak said quietly, interrupting my gruesome memory. I rubbed my hands, fingers moving over the raised skin of my scars, trying to massage the hurt out.

"You know it wasn't your fault. Stop blaming yourself."

"It was my fault," he said fiercely. "I shouldn't have let you go alone. I should have gotten there sooner."

"You saved my life, Vince. That's all there is to it."

He leaned in, eyes searching my face for answers. "Then why are we not still partners? We're supposed to have each other's backs."

I shook my head. He knew the answer already. And I didn't want to talk about it anymore. "Jane, look at me." I met his eyes.

"How can you think I'd ever have your back when you've seen me like that?" I asked him fiercely, pushing the picture towards him. "You had to carry me out of there for Christ's sake. Like a child. I can't, Korsak."

Standing up, I looked at him once more. "What I asked about earlier. You know how much this means to me, don't you?"

He nodded, tucking the picture under the pile again. Nothing more needed to be said.

…

Several hours later, several officers and prison guards were escorting a black-bagged Hoyt to a secure interview room, making sure he had no smuggled weapons and handcuffing him to the steel table. I, meanwhile, was stuck in the bull pen, pacing, wondering what was happening, worrying mostly about Maura. After a solid ten minutes of arguing, I finally agreed to her suggestion. Maura, an expert on many things including interpreting facial expressions despite her inability to successfully interpret and respond to social situations, volunteered to take the first turn in questioning Hoyt. Sure, she wasn't trained in interrogation, but Korsak and I wrote questions down for her and all she had to do was ask them. Besides, Frost and Korsak and every other able-bodied detective we had was working diligently, following up on leads and going over evidence. So, interim Detective Isles it was.

Around a half hour later, Maura click-clacked back into the room. It was deserted because all the detectives were out and about, and I assumed the guards had taken Hoyt to secure lockup by now. Seated with my feet on my desk, I was gazing blankly at some file in my hand, waiting quiet impatiently for her to return. And there she was, finally. I hopped out of my chair and it flew backwards, continuing to slide until it made contact with another desk. Growling softly under my breath, I stomped back to retrieve it and made room for Maura, who gave me a small smile and then focused on getting the interview to show up on my computer.

She got it to play and then I was watching Hoyt's face, up close and personal. It was shocking, at first, seeing him almost in person again, this monster who had haunted my dreams for so long. But I pushed any apprehensive thoughts I was having to the back of my mind and focused on the things he and Maura were saying to each other. I could barely stand the thought of him even looking at, much less speaking to Maura. It was the reason I almost didn't agree to this. And here he was, thoroughly enjoying trying to terrorize the woman I loved. He had no idea of course that we were together, and don't get me wrong, he was severely disappointed that it wasn't me in the room questioning him. But none of that stopped me from hating every second of this.

Before they took his black hood off, he moved his head around, tilting it up, sniffing the air.

"_Mmmm . ._ ," he said, his voice muffled by the dark fabric. "_I smell you, Jane. I can smell your fear_."

The officer ripped the hood off and Hoyt slowly opened his eyes, taking a moment to orient himself. His eyes landed on Maura and he smiled tightly, eyes narrowing, obviously disappointed.

"_Doctor Isles. How are you_?"

"_Fine_," Maura said, from off camera. "_I'm going to ask you a few questions, Mr. Hoyt_."

Clearing his throat, he leaned back in his chair, stretching against his restraints. "_I prefer _Doctor_ Hoyt, if you don't mind_."

I could hear Maura pause, and I imagined her smiling politely. Her fancy upbringing with manners and all that never seemed to fade. "_I would rather not. You didn't graduate medical school_."

He didn't let that faze him, simply continued smiling and leering at her, shrugging a little to show it didn't bother him.

"_Where is Emily Stearns' body_?" Maura asked him directly. He continued leaning back, smiling, his evil eyes glinting in the dim light.

"_You're not far_," he said quietly, as if that explained anything. "_Not far_?" Maura asked and Jane was wondering the same thing. What the hell does that mean?

"_What do you mean? Have you buried her somewhere near here_?"

"_Oh, you're not far_," he said. "_You're very close_."

And Maura knew she wouldn't get anywhere going down that route. She changed tact. "_Do you plan on hurting Jane_?"

This time, he didn't hesitate. "_Oh, yes_," he said, nodding his head, trying to use his shackled hands to demonstrate. "_But I won't have her killed right away. No, no. I want to be the one who does it. I want to feel her life slipping away. I want to feel her blood on my hands_."

He shrugged, as if to say, _I can't help it._ I glanced over at Maura, wondering at her reaction to all this. She was staring intently at the screen, taking extra notes in the margins of the page she had already written on. The on-camera version of Maura spoke again.

"_But_ _you will never get out of prison, Mr. Hoyt. You are being tried for nine counts of murder, not to mention your attempted murder of a homicide detective_."

He smiled sweetly, sickeningly. "_You're wrong about that, Doctor. I will get out of here. But don't worry, I won't hurt you_."

Lunging forward suddenly, he jumped out his seat trying to catch her off guard, straining madly against his cuffs. I was taken completely by surprise and jumped a little. The Maura next to me, however, didn't move an inch. I figured she had done the same thing in real time. The guards descended on him in the video, pushing him back down into his chair and he licked his lips predatorily. "_Maybe I will hurt you. But I wouldn't kill you_."

I heard Maura's voice again, and it was as calm as ever. "_You're clearly trying to frighten me_."

"_I am_," he agreed. "_But I see that you're not afraid_."

"_I'm not_," she said simply, and the Maura sitting next to me paused the recording. She pressed the rewind button and told me she wanted me to watch a few things. She went back to the part where he was lunging forward out of his seat.

As he lunged, Maura paused the video. She pointed at the screen. "This is the face of anger," she said. I nodded. That one was pretty obvious. "Who knew?" I said sarcastically. She ignored me and went on.

"But what's interesting is that his primitive brain still telegraphs the appropriate emotions through his facial muscles."

"Because he's a sociopath and shouldn't be able to express emotion anymore, right?"

"Right, and that's why _this_ threw me." She rewound the recording to the part where he was discussing how he wanted to kill me. "_I want to feel her blood on my hands." _Hoyt said again.

"If he was fabricating this story, I'd expect him to have some asymmetry in his facial expression. But there is none."

"So he's not lying." I stated more than asked. "He's going to kill me."

"Right," Maura said, her eyes big with what looked like relief. "But not right away."

"Maura," I said, shaking my head. "That doesn't really help." She looked hurt and I inwardly kicked myself as I tried to backpedal.

"I'm sorry, I'm being an ass. Thank you for doing this," She didn't look at me, but she clicked the mouse and the video kept running.

"_I see that you're not afraid,_" Hoyt was saying. And Maura again told him that she wasn't. But I hadn't heard this next part. I turned my eyes away from real-life Maura and listened.

"_I know_," he said, leaning forward as if to tell her a conspiratorial secret. "_And that's because you're like me_." Maura hurried to pause the video, nervously clicking different buttons, trying to get it to shut off. Finally, she managed it, but the damage had been done. I'd seen what she hadn't wanted me to. That Hoyt really had gotten to her. I thought she was going to be okay when I sent her in there, but somehow that bastard managed to find her buttons and he pushed them. She was frazzled, and I needed to find out what exactly was going on.

He was an expert at what he did, finding and exploiting people's weaknesses. Sort of like a bloodhound, he could smell it on people, especially me. He knew what made me tick because he'd spent so much time fixating on me. And now, idiot that I was, I'd given him the opportunity and time to fixate and figure out Maura. It didn't take him long. Picking up right away on her lack of social awareness, he associated himself with her, placing the two of them in the same category.

"Maura, you know that's not true." She nodded faintly, but didn't look too sure. In fact, she looked downright distressed, as if she'd realized recently that she was a serial killer her entire life and hadn't known about it.

"I did a lot of research into his childhood, Jane." She said, biting her lip and crossing her arms. Standing up, she started to pace nervously. "Maybe he's not wrong."

"What do you mean?" I asked, although I might have had an inkling.

"Maybe I am a little bit like him. I don't know Jane. I was a weird kid." I shot her a skeptical look, unable to believe how she could be putting herself on the same level as this guy.

"But were you into killing small animals, fantasizing about hunting people and destroying their families?"

"Well, I dissected a lot of frogs."

"That's not the same thing, Maur."

"But it sort of is, Jane. I started thinking about things I never thought about before."

"Oh no. You _do_ have bodies buried in your basement."

I succeeded in making her smile a little, but my heart was aching for her. I could see that she was having a lot of inner turmoil.

"No, I spent a lot of the alone. It wasn't like your family, so much love and attention . . . "

"I would call it overbearing and overprotective."

"Jane, seriously."

"Sorry," I said. This was a tough subject for her, I knew that. But I didn't know what it was like for her, she was right, I had never felt abandoned or unloved. So I tried to sympathize.

"My parents were very busy. I was adopted and an only child. And I just realized something when I was reading about Hoyt that I didn't realize before." She paused, taking a deep breath. "There was a lot of benign neglect, just like with Hoyt. I didn't know how to ask for things, so I guess it was partially my fault. They had all of their things going on, functions and galas and fundraisers. They sent me to boarding school when I was ten and I actually sent away for the brochure. They were so happy I was taking initiative of my own life at such an early age."

God, this woman. I loved her so much, flaws and social ineptitudes and benign childhood neglect and all. I loved every bit of her and I never wanted to see her hurt. Especially not because of Hoyt. I flipped the monitor screen off and it went blank instantly. My hands reached out and pulled her down into the chair across from mine, turning her to face me.

"I'm sorry, Jane. I know you're having a rough time too, and I should be trying to comfort you, but I just . . . " I cut her off immediately.

"Maura, no. Please stop." I said, grabbing hold of her hands, looking her right into her intoxicating hazel green eyes. "You're allowed to feel. Hoyt gets to people. He found your weakness, that's all. This isn't about me right now. It's about you."

I reached up and wiped one of her tears away. I hated that she had to relive those memories of her perfect on the outside but not so much on the inside childhood.

"Listen to me. I'm an incredible judge of character." She let out a small laugh, but there were still tears welling up in her eyes.

"I am, really. And you, Maura isles, are _nothing_ like him."

She glanced down, tears running down both sides of her cheeks now. I had to make sure she knew I wasn't just saying this to make her feel better. I lifted her gently and met her eyes again.

"Please look at me. You're warm and kind and good. You work with dead people, yes, but to _help_ them not to fondle them." She laughed quietly again.

"And you're smarter. Yeah, he's a genius, but he uses it for evil and you use it for good. You're capable of love, Maura. You love me, I know you do. I've seen the way you look at me. But Hoyt's not capable of it, he has obsessions, infatuations, especially with me. The difference is that you _love_ me. He doesn't know love and never will."

And then I couldn't help myself, I pulled her close to me and pressed our lips together. Right there in front of the whole empty squad room. She kissed me back, and whispered that she did love me, over and over into our joined mouths

…


End file.
